


Immunity: Part IV

by Epic Solemnity (Dark_Cyan_Star)



Series: Immunity [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Airbending & Airbenders, Angst, Blood and Gore, Daemons, Dark Fantasy, Depression, Discrimination, Earthbending & Earthbenders, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Firebending & Firebenders, Gods, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Voyeurism, Incest, Jealousy, Light BDSM, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Nobility, Oppression, Politics, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Royalty, Size Kink, Swordfighting, War, Waterbending & Waterbenders, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 175,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Cyan_Star/pseuds/Epic%20Solemnity
Summary: Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” ― Lao TzuPART FOUR:SLASH: The pendulum swings as several players glide eagerly across the board and into position. A lone player is not where he belongs, however, enticing fate to construct ominous consequences in answer to his misplacement. Destruction follows his path and lingers, vigilant, in the shadows of his regime. Tightfisted, the misplaced player will hold on dear to the one place he loves the most, but such efforts prove futile against the tenacity of fate.Facing obligations and pressures from all angles, the misplaced Reaper will struggle under the weight of expectations and duties. As incessant downfalls and losses mark his path, Ezra will need to rely on new and old allies to keep him from tumbling into the blissful debauchery of villainy.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Immunity [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030773
Comments: 1027
Kudos: 519





	1. Petals of Life and Fertility

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER: I own Immunity and its characters. Please do not use my characters or post elsewhere without my permission. Thank you much ♥**

**1: Petals of Life and Fertility**

“Keep _up_.”

Chitragupta once proclaimed Kai would eventually lose his approbation for the gods. The deference entrenched deep within him since childhood would crumble and wane. Kai hadn’t believed it would happen, lest of all crumble in a matter of minutes.

But it did.

And it was all due to Agni.

The Fire God hardly slowed as he led a disorientated and grieving Kai through a strange world with far too many things begging him to stop and admire. His mind could hardly process the two moons, one blue, the other a shimmering and breathtaking silver that often times changed hue. Everything surrounding him was crisp and colorful. Even at night. Especially night. Things _glowed_ and resonated with so much vibrancy.

The air was lighter. Pleasant, floral aromas filled his lungs every time he inhaled while a gentle, musical breeze teased his face and tugged mischievously at his hair. The grass under his boots swayed silver with the wind and then muted into a deep, blue-green when the breeze lulled. Pristine and light snow claimed several areas around the grassy hill he stood upon, but it appeared to be melting.

Tiny beads of moisture claimed the shards of grass and reflected brightly off the silver moon. Kai watched in disbelief as they gradually lifted from the blades of grass and floated whimsically into the air.

He watched several droplets ascend toward the sky.

Abruptly, he stopped following Agni’s harried pace and just… stared.

A serene calm washed through him as he watched the sparkled, beaded moisture join the blanket of brilliant, _breath-taking_ stars above. His knees weakened. The temperature in Elisium was so warm and comfortable. The breeze cool. His eyelids grew heavy. He just wanted to curl upon the full, lush grass and stare at the starry skies forever.

In a moment of distraction, he caught sight of the distant city.

His mortal mind could hardly comprehend the majestic splendor.

Even from a distance, he could see the tiny, intricate details carved into the buildings and bridges. A gorgeous, serene river ran through the crowded city, and on top the city, sitting proudly above all and everything, sat an enormous castle. Light encompassed the structure, shedding a silver hue across the sheer, massive slabs of pale, gleaming stone. Arches and immaculate columns claimed the outside of the palace, giving it more depth and breathless grandeur.

The Concordia palace put so many buildings to shame.

But _this…_

Kai gazed unblinkingly at the distant castle that sat among the stars.

Below the palace, and across the capital, he observed several small lit windows. Many residents were clearly still awake despite the hour.

What hour was it?

Do gods and goddesses even sleep?

Maybe they didn’t. Maybe that’s why there were so many warmly glowing windows Kai could observe from such a distance away. His eyes ran across the sheer size of the city, taken aback at how large, how bright it was. He then caught several shapes settled even further in the distance that indicated more settlements. It was… vast. From his position so high up, he could see mountains. Hills. Trees. Lakes. Meadows. 

This was Elisium.

And it was enchanting.

He craned his neck around, bypassing Agni, bypassing the weeping willows, and gazed at a large, distant valley. Waterfalls poured fiercely from tall heights, creating a cloud of heavy mist that feathered high into the sky and glittered against pale moonlight. Through the misty cloud, three enormously-crafted stone figures emerged from the tall, rocky cliffs.

Kai was too far to see properly, but they appeared to be statutes of gods.

The trio were positioned equally, maintaining balance by standing in a triangular formation.

Only, even from Kai’s position, he could see two of the three figures were in rougher shape than their counterpart. A sense of unease warped down Kai’s back, breaking through his awe for reasons he could not explain.

Agni had stopped walking once he realized Kai was not following at his heels and circled back around. “Have you finished admiring the scenery? Would you like a personal tour?”

Kai harbored a fleeting surge of confidence when he realized the extent of distaste Agni harbored for him. “What is your problem?”

“What is… my problem?” Agni repeated the question with a peculiar amount of dark humor. He glided closer and Kai abruptly stepped backward as the formidable figure loomed. “My problem is having to take care of you when I am needed elsewhere. My problem is you. Moving slow enough that even elders six times your age would outpace you.”

“Elders six times my age would be dead.”

_I’m dead._

“Precisely.”

The fleeting confidence he’d experienced abruptly fled. Kai looked away from those fiery eyes, feeling fear and disorientation cloud his mind. “I—this is all new, I still feel as if—”

At the mention of feelings and sentiments, Agni radiated an aura of revulsion and impatience. Evidently, the god had no interest in empathizing with Kai, whom he still considered so inferior in the grand scheme of things. “Every hour we spend here, in Elisium, is approximately ten hours in the mortal realm. How do you believe Ezra is handling those ten hours?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” Kai demanded.

Agni offered him a cold look before turning his heel and approaching the forest of weeping willows. This time, Kai put his head down and hurried at Agni’s heels, his thoughts lengthening and quickening his stride. 

_How do you believe Ezra is handling those ten hours?_

Kai knew exactly how Ezra was handling those ten hours.

Self-isolation. Self-disgust. Sorrow.

Ezra would work tirelessly so he wouldn’t have to feel. Kai did not know the extent of the damage in Concordia, but all those souls submerging into that black stream indicated it was a slaughter. And Ezra would put on his stoic, unfeeling mask and push himself through his grief of Cyra, of Kai, of Cain, of _others_ and move forward. He’d shoulder the blame.

And with the lockdown, Agni couldn’t reach him to snap him out of his foolishness.

The branches of the surrounding willows tickled his cheeks.

Reassuring. Loving.

Kai’s attention flickered, lingered, and dwelled on the swaying willows.

Despite his concern for Concordia, he felt at peace here. Along the cobblestone path, the willows bent forward and framed his way. A bell-like chime sounded from the swaying trees, filtering through the forest as a resonating and pleasant orchestra.

His fingers reached out to touch a perfectly pink flower hanging from a nearby willow. All around him, flowers sprouted on the hanging branches, some mere buds, some fully grown, and some mature enough to rain petals down like falling snow. As he peered closer, he also noticed branches would sporadically lighten with a silver or gold glow.

Once his eyes sought a lightened branch, it would dim a second later, too quick for his eyes to observe.

And there!

The branch he touched glowed a startling silver. Kai almost wept at the feelings it evoked. The flower he’d admired earlier suddenly brightened with an ethereal glow before breaking away from the willow tree. Wide eyes watched as it fluttered away, its petals turning into tiny wings before joining a mass of other brightly-glowing gold or silver flowers.

“This is Yamuna’s territory,” came Agni’s voice ahead of him. “The Goddess of Life and Fertility.”

Kai tilted back his head and closed his eyes.

An unfamiliar sensation drifted through his mind and body.

This felt like home.

He stumbled forward, forcibly tearing himself from the drug-like haze in order to follow Agni. They walked a good distance, Kai often times stopping to stare at the creatures he’d glimpsed at within the glowing and tranquil forest. He saw several white rabbits. He glimpsed at white owls. Sleeping doves. Several fireflies and glowing butterflies. Amongst the bell-like chime from the gently-swaying willows, he heard the musical chorus of crickets and frogs deep in the trees.

“It’s beautiful,” Kai found himself whispering more to himself than the impatient figure several paces ahead of him.

“You are mortal. These are your origins. Through her territory, there is also mortal paradise, _Svarga_ , or Heaven.”

Kai hadn’t expected Agni to respond. He took advantage. “Why wasn’t I—”

_Reborn there?_

Regardless if it had been unspoken, Agni answered anyway. “The Reaper is the one and only judge of deceased mortal souls.” The Fire God moved quickly, luring Kai faster behind him by talking quietly. “A mortal must carry his blessing to get through the veil and into Heaven. In the interim, all souls dwell within Naraka to await his judgement.”

He’d known that much, he supposed. He’d known about the lost, wandering souls. Agni had told him as much during their first conversation together back in the mortal realm. He just hadn’t comprehended the sheer importance of Ezra’s position.

“Does the God of Death and Justice typically bless many mortal souls into Heaven?”

Agni did not answer right away. He shooed away a white rabbit in his path before promptly stepping over it. It scurried off, afraid and terrified. Kai could relate. “It will depend on the Reaper. In the beginning of his reign, Yama was very lenient with his sentences. As he grew older, more unstable, he cast mortals into various levels of the underworld to repent for the most minor offense.”

“Various levels?”

“Different levels of punishment.”

Kai frowned, unable to help the shiver of unsettlement. “How do you believe Ezra will rule?”

Again, Agni did not answer right away.

Kai desperately wanted to see his expression, for the when the god spoke next, there was a peculiar note in his tone.

“Ezra has lived through several of his own hardships and committed his fair share of sins. He will undoubtedly have stronger empathy for a soul. Those he considers redeemable will not suffer quite as much and will be reincarnated.”

“Reincarnation truly exists?” The Unda religion did not believe in reincarnation but the Igni religion—

“It has not existed for over a thousand mortal years.” Agni motioned to a glowing branch to his right where a golden flower detached and fluttered into the air like a butterfly. “Yamuna has created new souls since the Reaper’s absence. With Ezra reclaiming the throne, souls intended for reincarnation will then go to Yamuna, whom will find a suitable home for him or her.”

“And the gods?” Kai asked evenly. “Are they also born here? Among the willow tree forest?”

“Gods have two parts to their existence. The soul and the Essence.” The God of Fire moved silently through the forest, his robes a mere whisper over the cobblestones. “Yamuna helps create the soul, here, but the Essence is an entirely different matter.”

From what Kai understood, the Essence was what made gods immortal. It gave gods their powers. The Essence was what Syphons truly craved and hungered after. When a god died, their Essence and soul were ripped apart, the soul being reborn into a Syphon while the Essence would then go to creating a new god to replace the old.

But if both the soul _and_ Essence were destroyed upon a god’s death…

Like Prithvi.

Both her Essence and soul were consumed by Ezra’s mother. Yet, Ezra and Chitragupta both seemed insistent that another Earth Goddess would be reborn. Prithvi had no soul remaining to be reborn into a Syphon, but she also had no Essence.

So how could they create a copy of her?

“Is another god or goddess responsible for creating Essences?” Kai inquired. “Elsewhere?”

“You will see.”

Agni disappeared through a thick curtain of willow branches. It only took a moment for Kai to follow right after, yet, what he faced were several more feet of hanging branches that obscured his vision. He batted them away gently, careful of the flowers, and separated them in order to make his way through the mass of branches.

No matter how far Kai traveled, Agni remained elusive. The curtains of willows were thick and impossibly endless. Kai panicked for a moment, as lost and reliant as he was on Agni, he couldn’t imagine losing sight of the Fire God and being stranded in this strange world.

As he continued swatting away the chime-like willows, he finally saw a silver light radiating ahead.

Using the back of his hand, he parted a pair of hanging branches and lost his ability to breathe.

Pupils dilated in surprise as he observed the sight before him.

Pools of all shapes and sizes claimed the enormous clearing. Some nestled inside intricately-carved rock formations, some floated whimsically in midair, while others claimed areas between grassy mounds and gentle shores. Every single pool and stream glowed an otherworldly silver or gold. Swans swam serenely in a distant, lit-stream, passing through flowering willow trees that submerged over the waters. Lotus’ bloomed vibrantly from their lily pads, competing with the falling petals from the hovering willows.

Fireflies were plentiful here.

As were awake birds that chirped happily amongst the active crickets.

A pack of fluttering, glowering flowers twirled through the air and playfully encircled a tall and elegant woman. The woman had her back turned to Kai, yet he watched as she hovered over a particularly bright silver basin and gently held a glowing and complacent flower under her fingers.

“—about his creation?”

Honing his attention, Kai realized Agni stood behind the woman, nearly dwarfing her with his presence. It wasn’t that he was taller than her. While he did stand a few inches taller, it was not their height difference that explained his looming. Rather, Agni exuded a simmering ire that immediately put Kai on edge. 

The woman—Yamuna—Kai assumed, gradually looked up from the pool of silver and regarded the blue moon. A small smile curved her mouth as she tucked a strand of pale hair behind her ear. She then moved closer to the pool of silver and stirred a careful finger through the waters. “I thought you knew everything, Agni.”

Kai stiffened and hunched back near the willows at such a bold comment.

Agni was unrelenting and his tone grew sharper. “Who is his sire?”

Kai’s brows furrowed.

Who were they speaking of? Ezra?

The goddess finally turned around and Kai’s mouth grew dry and his knees weakened. Blindly, he groped to find a solid anchor to keep himself upright. Exquisite. Divine. There really were no words to describe her.

_Oh, Varuna…_

The long white-blonde hair fell down her back in lazy curls, her skin pure and flawless, her eyes—her eyes so much like…

Ezra’s eyes.

She was both beautiful and sensual, but far more the latter. Kai’s cheeks scorched hotly and he quickly averted and refocused his eyes to and from her low-cut gown. Her chest pressed against finely-spun fabric, but the fabric did nothing to hide the swell of her breasts from the sides. The risqué gown even displayed much of her abdomen before a sash of gold jewelry encircled her slim waist. The lower half of the golden-ivory gown may have swayed at her ankles, yet, as she moved, Kai saw the gown cut to her upper thigh.

Without batting an eyelash, she displayed that shapely upper thigh.

Kai exhaled sharply, having a private battle. Such a sight was improper, scandalous, and forbidden in Concordia. He looked quickly to Agni, evaluating the man’s reaction. Only, unlike Kai’s inane struggles, Agni seemed entirely blasé. The God of Fire’s face was carved from unrelenting stone, if not a bit repulsed.

Why should Agni be affected by such a goddess?

If Yamuna was intimidatingly beautiful, then Agni was intimidatingly handsome.

And he was.

Kai was secure with his sexuality to admit when a man was attractive. But Agni was no simple man.

The sharp cut of his jaw, the impressive expansion of his broad shoulders, and the symmetrical perfection of his masculine facial features were all above a mere mortal’s beauty. He kept his hair tied to the nape of his neck, but Kai observed the shimmering shades of golden blonde and red-blonde. The same pale colors framed his eyebrows and long lashes. It didn’t help that his fire-like eyes and smirking mouth exuded airs of mischievousness and sadistic amusement.

Yamuna and Agni stood close to one another, talking lowly.

Kai never felt as if he were homely. He was quite confident with his appearance.

Yet, amongst these two, he felt bland. Unimpressive. Even Ezra. Kai recalled when Ezra looked his most handsome. During his coronation. During the Igni festival. While one of the most handsome men in Concordia, even Ezra could not hold a flame to these two deities. They harnessed a glowing, magnetic appeal. They seemed taller. Untouchable. Brighter.

“Come here, young one.”

Kai jerked, having been too lost in his marvel of the Goddess of Life to follow their hushed conversation. He swallowed thickly when Yamuna beckoned him closer, appearing patient and kind. Next to her, Agni was her opposite. He watched Kai with a harsh and impatient gleam.

“Pay Agni no heed,” Yamuna called musically, having sensed Kai’s focus. “He is fangless when Ezra holds his leash.” 

Agni looked at her sharply.

A cruel twist of lips displayed a very unnerving smile. “You’re mistaken. The fangs merely grow sharper when he holds my leash.”

Yamuna appeared entertained at his response. “Such a protective lover,” she all but cooed.

Agni did not dissuade her comment.

If anything, he looked almost pleased with himself.

Kai felt uncomfortably out of place. Like he shouldn’t overhear the intimate inferences about Agni and Ezra’s relationship. _That_ still did not sit well with him. The last he heard from Chitragupta, Ezra did not appreciate Agni’s advances and his quest to be consorts. Kai wanted to applaud Ezra’s firm backbone against someone like Agni.

Most would have melted in a puddle of nonsensical words of admiration and worship for the God of Fire.

“I noticed Indra locked down the realms, but I had believed it was to prevent Ezra from leaving.” Momentarily distracted, Yamuna reached over to tickle the petals of the floating flower. It all but giggled and remained content in the pool of glowing silver. Her smile was indulgent and gentle. “I will have words with Indra. Ezra does not belong there.”

She turned back around and lifted a hand to encourage Kai closer.

“What do you mean?” he asked as he neared closer.

“Ezra is the God of Death now.” Yamuna motioned to the stone bench beside the water basin. When Kai sat, she followed suit, entirely unaware of the effect she had on him. “The land of the living will not appreciate his presence.”

“But Ezra loves the mortal realm.”

Yamuna offered a placating smile as if he were a young child. “He does. But in his quest to heal and save the mortal realm, he will inadvertently cause destruction just by being there.” She looked up at Agni. “I will try my best to convince Indra of his ramifications. But alas, Indra is stubborn and proud. He has been anticipating Ezra’s presence here for quite some time.”

At this, Agni narrowed his eyes. “Several _weeks_ do not equate to ‘quite some time’.”

“It is a matter of whom will cave first, Agni,” Yamuna replied evenly. “Will Ezra plead to Indra when he realizes what his presence is doing to the mortal realm? Or will Indra cave when he realizes Naraka is on the verge of collapsing open?” She looked at Agni’s unfriendly expression. “Ezra is a newborn. Indra will make it his priority to harness him when he’s young and malleable. This is a simple powerplay.”

“It does not make it any less deplorable!”

While Kai shied away from Agni’s temper, Yamuna simply endured it with a stern look. “Aside from powerplays and acts of dominance, Indra and Vayu also benefit from Ezra roaming the mortal realm, do they not?”

She was trying to draw out a revelation from Agni.

It was evident in the pointed way she gazed up at him.

Kai watched as the answer immediately dawned on Agni. The god’s hot displeasure vanished abruptly and an expression of frightening, cold fury took its place. “That cannot happen.” The god’s quiet whisper was enough to make Kai’s skin crawl uncomfortably. “That would ruin him.”

“What?” Kai demanded. He looked away from Agni, beseeching Yamuna, the likelier one to respond. 

The goddess released a soft sigh.

“Vayu and Indra want to end the current cycle of mortal existence. They will use Ezra to destroy it.”

Disbelieving horror washed through Kai. “Why would the gods kill off all the mortals?” He thought of his family. He thought of Talia. He thought of his teammates. More importantly, he thought of what this would do to Ezra. “Ezra explained that mortal worship and prayer fueled the deities. Without them—”

“To Indra and Vayu, and perhaps to many other gods, the mortal realm is degenerating from their intended purpose. There are less worshippers. There is less emphasis on religion, especially in the Eurus Empire. This cycle was also responsible for the passing of Prithvi. Humanity would start over from the beginning.”

Kai wanted to argue further, question further, but he held his tongue when he saw the sadistic delight across Agni’s face.

“I’m tempted to let it happen.”

Kai looked disbelievingly at Agni, but the god appeared distracted in his own mind. 

“Imagine how angry Ezra would be at Indra and Vayu.”

“Agni,” Yamuna warned quietly. “I imagine Ezra will already be upset with Indra. You want him quietly seething, not raging mad. He is already being watched closely. Do not make him Elisium’s enemy just yet. Do not make him _Brahma’s_ enemy. He is already stirring.”

Despite Yamuna’s warning, Agni did not lose that haze in his eyes. He watched her calmly, a certain stillness in his posture.

“A destroyer,” the Fire God mused carefully. He took a step closer to Yamuna, whom appeared to brace herself. “Death is an element of destruction. Was it intentional on Indra’s behalf to use Ezra to destroy the mortal realm?” Agni made a negative noise of contemplation. “No. That cannot be. Indra doesn’t know his origins. Otherwise, he’d become _fanatical_.”

“I do not appreciate your insinuating, Agni. Ezra is a product of Calder and Ember Talise.” 

Agni’s smile widened. “I will see no trace of Rudra when I look upon Ezra?”

Kai’s back grew rod straight at the thick tension.

“Rudra died centuries ago.”

“Which is why I am curious to know how this came to be. Yama was just as much a master of the soul as you. Did he stow away the child of Rudra? Why must you deny his origins?” Agni persisted evenly. He had the appearance of a man whom had his answers despite the source denying him the truth. “I have always respected and admired Rudra.”

Yamuna did not appear amused. “Simply because you were both cut from the same cloth. To most others, he was far too destructive and responsible for the demise of hundreds of Devas. His name continues to invoke fear and unease. Imagine if you would start the speculation that Ezra is his. The poor fledgling is already cursed by taking the mantle as the Reaper.”

Rudra.

Kai carefully tucked the information away for later.

“My intentions are not to start speculation, merely get out in front of it,” Agni countered sharply. “You cannot hide it. If he has any trace of Rudra, the older deities will identify—”

“Silence.” Yamuna stood from the bench. Her expression and tone were cold as she looked into equally forbidding eyes. “We will discuss this later, Agni. We will.” At this, the Fire God seemed to relent, though he continued to watch her closely as she turned her back on him. “Let us talk about more pressing matters. Your hand, young one.”

From this angle, Kai had an eyeful of Yamuna’s chest and he grew both flustered and red. He caught Agni’s knowing stare, noting the mocking gleam in the god’s eyes as well as the sardonic twist of his lips.

Hurriedly, Kai placed his hand in hers, focusing on her gentle and careful ministrations.

The goddess patiently unfastened his glove and tugged it from his hand. Kai stared uncomprehendingly at the blackened fingers. It appeared as if he’d dipped his fingers in ink and left them there. Black veins stretched up his hand, and as Yamuna pulled back his sleeve, he could see the black veins extend past his wrist.

Carefully, Yamuna unbuttoned his collar. Kai could not look down, but he felt her warm fingers ghost the cool skin of his neck. With an inquisitive and solemn fingernail, she traced his jugular.

“Your soul is entirely tainted.” She removed her hand and looked up at him sadly. “I am surprised Ezra has forgiven you for this.”

She was not speaking to Kai, but rather Agni.

“I am a Syphon then? Has the transformation completed?”

Yamuna smiled gently. “Not yet. You are far more mortal than you are Syphon, but the progression is alarming.” Her lashes lowered as she observed his fingers. “You feel cold.” She cupped his hands again with her two warm ones. “Mortal souls do not belong here, Kai. You shouldn’t have been able to resist the waters of Naraka. It is a unique case, but I do not imagine you have much longer until the curse fully consumes you. If that happens…”

“If that happens?” Kai persisted.

“You may be reborn in Naraka.” Yamuna squeezed his hand. “And not in the waters with the mortals.”

Kai frowned. “You mean trapped with the other Syphons and daemons.”

“It will not get to that point.” Agni stepped forward. “He is to be given Chitragupta’s Essence.”

Yamuna offered him one more squeeze before she stood. “How did you even manage this, Agni?” She grabbed her long gown and moved around him and back to the basin. Her movements were no longer fluid, but stiff with anger.

“I merely took a page from your book,” came the god’s sly, unfriendly response. “What you had Ezra do to Ember Azeri, I had Ember Azeri do to Kai Edlen. Without the exchange of the Reaper’s Essence, of course.”

The fair-haired goddess preoccupied herself with the flower. Without direct contact, the flower spun frantically in the basin before it lifted into the air. Yamuna watched it carefully before she cupped it and blew on it. The flower lost shape and blew with the breeze, falling apart into a mass of glittering particles. It traveled across the glowing pools of silver before entering a large basin of fire across the clearing.

The fire turned a familiar-looking white before it spat the glittered particles straight into the air.

The sparkling mist seemed to linger briefly before it gathered back together and continued to climb into the skies above.

“Then you best hurry,” Yamuna replied with a level of detachment. “And bless that child with godhood before the Syphon overcomes him.”

Agni turned his heel and beckoned Kai to follow him. As much as Kai wanted to stay with the Goddess of Life and sate his questions and his curiosities, he recognized the importance of following close behind Agni. A part of him had accepted his fate as a Syphon despite Agni’s insistence he would inherit godhood from Chit’s old position.

It was all still surreal to him.

Becoming a god. Learning about gods and goddesses. Syphons. Daemons.

This felt like a dream. A horrible dream he would never awake from.

He just wanted to be back in Concordia and grow old with Talia. To watch his children age and build their own lives.

He wanted Micah.

Badly.

Surprisingly, Agni did not bring him through the willow forest again, but rather led him through the clearing of pools and grassy meadows. They climbed down a set of rocky stairs and a dark cavern loomed. Kai hesitated upon seeing the red glow emitting from the cave’s entrance. It was hardly reassuring. Not like the refreshing, silvery hue belonging to the mortals.

“Come.” Agni pressed a hand to Kai’s shoulder and steered him inside.

The cave was warm. Sweltering, really.

There was nothing remotely special about it. It was pitch-dark save for the red glow coming from further down the cave.

Agni kept a firm hold on him, walking with him instead of in front of him. Maybe the god actually did possess a sliver of empathy. Kai refused to believe it was attributed to anything other than Ezra’s influence. 

As they finally broke through the darkness, they entered a chamber.

Kai’s attention immediately fell on the four hooded figures standing around the glowing red-gold symbol carved into the cave’s rocky ground. The figures were entirely stiff and motionless. White, flawless robes covered their bodies entirely. Even their hands, which appeared to be clasped in front of their chests, were covered with an abundance of material. With their heads lowered, they appeared to be praying.

His eyes roved the cave walls. Unique, odd symbols were etched deeply into the rock.

And at the head of the chamber, a statue of a god appeared to emerge from the cave. Kai’s eyes widened as he absorbed the god’s features and immaculate, intimidating appearance. Whomever this was, he was evidently very important.

“These are attendants of Brahma, the supreme god. The God of Creation.” Agni moved forward and dropped fluidly to his knees.

Kai stood flabbergasted.

Agni—

_Oh my god._ Agni was _kneeling._

He clumsily followed suit, his entire body trembling with the implications of a powerful, infamous god kneeling to another god. Another god he’d called supreme. Brahma. Kai raked his mind. He did not recall Micah ever mentioning a Brahma. Or a Rudra. But both gods mentioned seemed extremely influential.

One dead, the other—

His eyes shyly looked up at Brahma’s statue.

“We call them the Keepers,” Agni continued after a lengthy pause. “Brahma has designated them as the gatekeepers of the Essence. They are fundamentally an extension of him.” He looked at Kai, seeming amused at his awe. “You have much to learn. It reminds me how much Ezra needs to learn and the many things I need to teach him.”

Kai looked sideways at the god, surprised to see Agni appearing unbothered by that aspect. In fact, there was almost a gentleness to his expression that completely transformed the hard cut of his features. There was a true, sincere fondness and enthusiasm for what, Kai assumed, could only be the thought of teaching Ezra about the life of a god.

He looked back forward, his mind briefly replaying Agni’s temperament these past few hours. Whenever the mention of Ezra occurred, Agni often times got defensive and protective on his behalf. And then there were times, like these, where any mention of Ezra softened his cruel front. 

Maybe there was some truth to Agni having true desire for Ezra.

Kai shifted on his knees and looked at the robed figures. “They…” he trailed off and offered the robed figures another fleeting glance. “They are not reacting to your presence.”

Indeed, the four figures had yet to move since Agni’s entrance.

“They will.”

They kneeled in silence for quite some time as they waited for the robed figures to animate. Kai was convinced there was no physical body beneath those robes. No living creature could be that still.

“These Keepers are responsible for placing the Essence inside new gods?”

“In a sense.” Agni stared at the statue of Brahma as he responded. “Yamuna must approach them for an Essence. Together, they create a new god or goddess. In other cases, they replicate the Essence of a god that has been destroyed. In the past, there were also times Brahma had the insistence to create a new major god or goddess, in which case, the Keepers would approach Yamuna to construct a soul. This is Brahma’s power. While he is not the one directly responsible, he has disseminated himself and his powers here to be of assistance.”

Kai turned to Agni, unable to hold his curiosity. “Yamuna creates those souls. She seems to touch each one before sending them off. Does that mean that…” he trailed off, uncertain how to proceed tactfully, before deciding to continue unabashedly. “Having sex does not mean anything at all? It does not accomplish anything?”

Agni’s expression did not move from that stone-crafted mask.

In fact, it was a long moment in which he appeared just as immovable and motionless as the robed figures.

“Foolish mortal,” the Fire God disparaged. “Those flowers are fertilized roots of a specific man and a specific woman. Each flower is unique to the man and woman whom united.”

_United._

A formal and chaste way of saying being intimate.

Of having sex.

Kai then reared away when he realized he’d caressed a—a union flower.

“I don’t understand.” Upon Agni’s expression morphing into one of extreme ire and irritation, he hurried to explain. “There are some flowers that are mere buds. Then there are some that are so mature, the petals are falling off!”

“The ones that break away from the trees are properly fertilized by a male donor. The female’s fertility and cycle were in the correct and proper stage at the time of conception.”

“So, the buds and mature flowers are inadequate trails during intercourse? Or do they represent a woman’s fertility stage?”

Agni finally turned away from the statue of Brahma and settled Kai with an incredibly chilly stare. “ _Silence_.”

Kai decided to dig further just because he could.

Just because he realized how much sway Ezra had over Agni.

Agni couldn’t touch him.

“What about Brooke and Ezra’s child?”

If possible, the chilly stare grew lethal. Kai abruptly closed his mouth and turned away from the Fire God, sensing the stare focused intently on the side of his face. “I know they didn’t ‘unite’.” He used Agni’s word to appease the god. “Ezra told me as much. He beseeched to Yamuna for an heir. But if there is no male donor and no flower, I don’t understand how that is possible to conceive.”

Agni did not respond, nor did it appear as if he would.

The god turned back to look at the statue of Brahma.

Kai supposed it did not matter. Yamuna was a powerful goddess with unique powers concentrating specifically on life and fertility. If anyone could create a child from a man and woman whom had not lain together, it would be her.

“Agni,” Kai ventured again tentatively. “Will you truly let Ezra destroy the mortal world?”

“I do not recall you being this talkative in the mortal realm. It was partly why I approved of you.”

Agni’s approval was what got Kai into this situation. The last time they had a conversation, Agni made him feel important. Vital to the overall grand scheme of things. Of saving the mortal souls. Of being the assistant of the Reaper—Ezra. Now, he felt as if he’d been played and manipulated into accepting such a fate without much, if any, complaint.

“Your approval is a dangerous thing.”

Agni’s stern mouth softened before it curled into a vindictive smirk. “That it is.” He blinked lazily. “As for the end of humankind, I will not put Ezra through that. I will find a way through to him.”

“Lord Agni.”

Kai flinched when the eerie, grainy words reverberated through the cave. The hooded figures did not move but they spoke as one. It sent a strange feeling of unsettlement down Kai’s spine.

“I have come to seek your divine blessing of this mortal soul.” Agni rose from the ground and harnessed an easy aura of confidence. “I wish to gift him with Chitragupta’s Essence so he can aid the new God of Death and Justice with his duties of weighing mortal souls.”

Was this all?

Would they allow it?

Was it this easy to grant godhood to a mortal soul?

One of the hooded figures turned its head marginally. Nothing but fathomless darkness appeared beneath the hood, yet Kai felt as if he were under intense scrutiny. His hackles rose in instinctual terror and he scrambled to his feet, backing away as the cold fear encompassed him. Agni was suddenly there, stopping his retreat with a firm, solid hand around his shoulder.

The hooded figure slowly turned its head back around, keeping it bowed like the others.

“We no longer have possession of Chitragupta’s Essence.”

Agni’s fingers tightened around Kai’s shoulder. “You assured me this would be acceptable and feasible several weeks prior.”

“Acceptable, yes. Feasible, yes.” All four lowered their heads further. A long pause stretched. “King Indra has taken possession of Chitragupta’s Essence. He is entitled to possessing it.”

Agni remained silent and still.

Kai watched him, his eyes widening in fear as the God of Fire slowly turned to look down at him. There was something dangerous in those eyes. Something horrifyingly ominous. This was not the irritable, snarky god Kai had been following around these past several hours. This was a side he had yet to see, had hoped he would never experience.

“Do you recall Ezra possessing a vial of corked Essence?”

Kai’s mind blanked with dread.

The hand on his shoulder tightened further and shook him once. “What did he do with the Essence?”

“W-we…” Kai stuttered as the truth doused him with cold realization. “We shared it. The three of us.”

Agni stared at him. “Shared it.”

“Consumed it.”

What happened next could only be Agni attempting to stifle that fire in his eyes. The man simply turned his heel and exited the cave. Kai looked after him, positive he should keep a large distance. But as he turned and looked at the robed figures, whom continued to stand there motionlessly, Kai hurriedly retraced Agni’s furious retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Long time no see (not too long, though!). I *aim* to do weekly updates, but there is a possibility it may extend a bit longer. 
> 
> In the lull between Part III & Part IV, there have been several fan art pieces created. Thank you so much to the artists! Please visit my LiveJournal (linked on my profile) if you're interested in seeing them!! 
> 
> ♥


	2. Perceive a Broken Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait to post this next weekend, but I figured the majority of you have already read and commented on it. So why not post it?

**2: Perceive a Broken Soul**

**_Several Centuries Earlier:_ **

Quick.

 _Quicker_.

Kartikeya cuddled the bundle as darkness swallowed him. Glowing white eyes flashed in his peripheral vision as he sprinted through the confined tunnel and up the spiraling staircase. The cold dug at his flesh. The chill ate at the tips of his toes. Not only did pursuers from Indra’s army follow him, but the left-over impressions of the depths of Naraka also chased at his heels.

Goose bumps trailed his toned arms and the hairs stood on end.

Whatever was down there…

Yama had ordered Kartikeya to collect this bundle should he perish. While never having been down so far in Naraka, Kartikeya was obligated to follow Yama’s last request.

As he broke through the tunneled darkness, he stumbled toward the barrier that kept the Syphons and daemons imprisoned. Spotting a group of evergreens near the perimeter, he raced over. Pushing his sentiments aside over seeing evidence of Yama’s demise and prison, he kneeled close to the edge of the buzzing wards and moved snow around with his free hand.

Once he shoveled a small groove, he gathered the bundle and placed it within the snowy trench.

Soft, downy black fur stuck up in odd places. Kartikeya ran an eye down the wolf pup that was barely larger than his outstretched hand. It was motionless as Kartikeya gently laid it down, its belly round and full as if it had just suckled milk from his mother’s teat. Puzzlement ate at Kartikeya’s features for seeing such an unassuming, unexpected creature produced from the deep levels of Naraka.

A wolf was an especially rare sight.

At least since the demise of—

Kartikeya stiffened as he heard the altercation in the tunnel behind him.

Quickly rolling the wolf pup toward the very edge of the wards, he covered it with a thin layer of snow and dead needles. He then got to his feet and sprinted away, leaving behind the newborn pup to the cruelty of the cold.

Several years later, the wards flickered with awareness.

The red-gold wards stretched wearily toward the motionless wolf pup before licking cautiously. As if shocked, the wards returned to their previous perimeter. It took several attempts before the red-gold tendrils curled around the wolf pup, cloaking it in another layer of protection. Hugging the newborn soul between two walls of wards, it waited patiently.

It wouldn’t be for another several decades before the Goddess of Life and Fertility finally ventured to Naraka.

*** * * ***

_Present Day:_

The black and gold uniforms were a symbol of military strength and unity. Several hundred soldiers marched together in harmony, their steps as synchronized as if they were one, interconnected being. Boots tied, postures rod straight, and belts polished, they followed their lieutenants across the expansive grounds.

Vacant eyes watched their proud progress from a window several stories above the field.

Behind him, a trio of seasoned military men gathered around the large office. Irving Dover sat prim and proper amongst them, sticking out in his obnoxiously-fine stitched attire of ivory and navy blue. Often times, during a lull in conversation, his eyes wandered toward Ezra to gauge whether or not his silence was telling or unintentional. He frequently filled the quiet in lieu of Ezra, whom seemed intent to give Calder’s right-hand man free reign with the meeting’s proceedings.

Ezra gazed into the distance, the white-peaked mountains reflecting in his glassy and distant pupils.

Kai would have been Ezra’s voice for these meetings.

“The missives you’ve sent are receiving positive responses, Your Majesty.”

A direct address.

Irving shifted behind Ezra.

“His Majesty has a way of reaching the hearts of men,” Irving responded agreeably.

“Outer region kids are enlisting at an all-time high.” Another man added.

A scoff. “Probably enlisting for the free food.”

The chorus of hearty chuckles were enough to pull Ezra’s attention from the distance. He turned his heel, bypassing Irving’s pinched expression and prowled closer to military men. “Always easy to joke about things you have never experienced personally.”

“It was a simple jest, Your Majesty.”

Ezra nodded once as he approached the empty chair. “Yes, I typically find mind-numbing hunger pains an apt subject of humor.” A tense and awkward silence settled among the group. Ezra placed a gloved hand at the back of the chair. “It has been over three months since the Eurus Empire has declared war. They have yet to strike or attempt to communicate. I count it as either a blessing or cause for alarm.”

Major General Sloan sat behind his desk and rubbed a hand alongside his jawline. “They’re preparing to act just as we are preparing to defend.”

“Perhaps it would be wise to consider an offensive strike first,” Ezra mused. “Their capital is encased with metal. Flimsy metal in some of the older areas. A fire attack would drive most of them out.”

“An incinerator.” Irving clasped his hands on his lap and looked up at Ezra. “It would be effective. Their capital is heavily populated.”

“I would caution against taking the offensive lead against an empire like Eurus. They are superior in terms of technology and warcraft.” Colonel Lynn shook his head fiercely. “I don’t want to put our fire Elementals in the first line of defense. We’ve lost too many in the capital attack as it is.”

Ezra’s gaze turned inward.

Not only fire Elementals, but the amount of deceased water Elementals had been overwhelming. Many of them young warrior males. Most of them royal guards. The loss of non-Elementals was just as staggering. There were over forty casualties that night in the palace alone, royal guards and military members combined.

The general population also faced their own casualties. Exactly thirty-one lives were lost due to Agni’s loss of control.

The fire damage across the capital—across the whole kingdom— was devastating.

With cleanup still ongoing, the unsanitary conditions at the capital also spurred illnesses to spread. Several casualties resulted after the capital attack due to infection or disease. The Healers they’d sent to the Terra Kingdom were summoned back to the capital in effort to tend to the sick.

Meanwhile, the prison, Region 0, was busy cultivating food, breeding livestock, and mass-producing weapons.

Ezra and the Royal Council had sent out incentives for all Concordia citizens to consider farming. Several advisors traveled across the kingdom to educate the residents on their possibilities with agricultural and livestock breeding. With the added incentive from the crown, and the encouragement of the royal advisors, several new parties were beginning to cultivate goods.

Even the deep south had weather prime for certain crops and livestock.

They, too, were just as vital contributing to the food supply.

Trains began to run more frequently between the regions, creating more jobs for citizens in the transportation sector. During the next council meeting, Ezra also planned to propose more educational facilities specialized in trade skills. Their population was far too great to continue the master and apprenticeship way of passing down skills.

“Not many have been to the Eurus Empire, we’d go in blind—”

“His Majesty has recently visited the Eurus Empire with Lord Josiah,” Irving interrupted Major General Sloan. “He has just as much foresight to the Eurus Empire as the Eurus Empire has on the Concordia and Terra Kingdoms.”

Ezra stood motionlessly as he pondered Irving’s words.

An idea blossomed and grew.

He had never considered going to the Eurus Empire in his god form. The possibilities of what he could accomplish _there,_ as the Reaper, were both endless and intriguing. He just didn’t know how to get there in a timely manner. He’d discovered, after a lengthy daemon hunting trip, that his mortal body did not take kindly to his long absences.

Subconsciously, he clenched his right hand which was heavily bandaged beneath his gloves.

Rather ironic, really, considering his godly form’s—

Sloan shifted, drawing Ezra’s immediate attention. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I believe it best to draw the altercation to the Terra Kingdom. They live underground. There would be no destruction to their infrastructure if battles took place above ground.”

Ezra’s lashes lowered and he matched the Major’s condescending tone with his own. “With all due respect, Major, Concordia is situated in the middle of three warring kingdoms. It is likely we will be the center of the chaos.” His tone then dried and turned cynical. “Perhaps, if I ask nicely enough, the Eurus Empire will oblige to a written invitation to meet us at the Terra Kingdom this time next week.” 

Sloan’s face turned red with anger.

His two subordinates looked between Ezra and Sloan, but remained tightlipped and white knuckled.

Ezra inclined his head and moved away from the chair. He glided toward the door, hearing the others scramble to their feet with hasty decorum. “I will discuss the possibility of an offensive strike during the next Council meeting. I want to avoid fighting this war on our soil. If that means we make the first strike, so be it. We will find a way.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The chorus of acknowledgments followed Ezra out the door.

“This is why royalty has no business controlling the military,” a voice sounded quietly from inside the room. “Especially young boys who just placed daddy’s crown on his head.”

“It is still warm from King Calder,” another muttered.

Irving Dover, whom had just exited the room, hesitated momentarily with his hand on the doorknob. He met Ezra’s steely gaze and his mouth flattened. “Leave it,” the councilman warned quietly enough so the others would not be alerted. “Let him nurse his bruised ego.” He then went to slam the door.

Only, Ezra’s boot inserted itself between the door and the frame, forcibly stopping it from closing.

With one hand clutching the edge of the door, he leaned inside and smiled predatorily at Major Sloan and the others. “Aside from ruling and commanding the military, I also command and control you gentlemen.” His voice was ice-like, his gaze just as dead and unnerving. They all looked down or away, losing face. “Just a friendly reminder. For next reminder will be less than considerate.” 

With that, Ezra nodded in farewell and quietly shut the door behind him.

He could sense Irving’s exasperation on their way down the staircase. The councilman did not say anything, however, only proceeded to match Ezra’s quickened and long strides with his own.

Once a uniformed soldier opened the doors hastily for them, they stepped into the cloudy, hazy afternoon. Ezra spared a momentary glance at the sky, bitterly amused. The sun persisted to stay hidden. He couldn’t remember the last time the sun graced them with its brilliancy. It was just before his coronation and that was well over three--almost four--months ago.

“The conclusion of the meeting aside, I believe it went rather well,” Irving considered. They walked toward their carriages. “All positive news on the military front. We’ve greatly exceeded the amount of lost enlisted members with new, albeit green recruits. Training is going well. Weapons are in surplus. Food rations are on track. With the additional support from citizens cultivating goods, I believe we’ll eventually satisfy our depletion of food supply.”

“Yes,” Ezra agreed distantly. “All good things. Great things.”

A heavy silence radiated from Irving. Ezra nodded politely to the man as they reached his carriage, Irving’s own carriage parked several strides ahead of him. As the palace servant opened the door for him, Irving finally decided to speak up.

“I am off to meet my wife at Councilwoman Abital’s residency.” A pause, extended when Ezra did not say anything or react to the announcement. “We would very much appreciate your company. Councilwoman Abital has expressed an interest in holding a private audience with you. As well, my wife wishes to give you some baked goods she and the girls made last night. Raspberry biscuits. Your wife, of course, is also invited. The women are very excited about the impending birth of the next royal heir.”

Irving only had to look at Ezra to know he would refuse.

As he always did.

The words that followed seemed unnecessary.

“I appreciate the offer, Councilman Dover, however, I have—”

“Next time, then,” Irving interrupted gently. His expression softened as he gazed at Ezra. “You do not have to do this alone, Ezra.”

Ezra let the words sink deep before a humorless grin stretched across his unnaturally stiff face. He nodded once more to Irving before entering the carriage. He gazed out the curtained window as they pulled away from the curb. Irving remained standing on the sidewalk, lifting a hand as he hailed Ezra goodbye.

Once they moved toward the palace, and away from observers, Ezra relaxed.

He leaned his head against the window, staring blankly at his surroundings.

Once again, he sat in silence. 

*** * * ***

Ezra didn’t have to turn to know the exact moment Chitragupta entered his dark suites. The Syphon’s presence was like a gentle ripple in the water. Subtle, yet tranquillizingly resonating. His eyes briefly closed as the tendrils of a bewitching and lulling darkness further shrouded the room in a safe haven. He preferred it here. Quiet. Still.

Away from the thrumming and migraine-inducing presence of living souls.

They were so _bright._

Gazing at the mirror’s reflection, he watched as the black shadow shifted closer to Ezra’s mortal body. As the figure solidified, Chit’s pale face hovered over the motionless and stiff figure, inspecting it with inquisitive eyes. A finger reached out to touch the flawless cheek before poking at his stomach. “You’re rock solid. You’ll shatter to pieces should you fall!” There was laughter in Chit’s tone.

Ezra frowned. “An exaggeration. I still need to move.”

Chit turned away from the dead body to consider him. “Have you wrapped the hand?”

“I have.” Ezra turned to face Chit. “I’m also going to remove the gut organs. Less to freeze. Less energy wasted. Less potential for rotting. I am fortunate it is just the fingers.”

The Syphon seemed to consider this while taking in Ezra’s appearance as he stepped away from the shadows. “That will be intriguing to watch. Gutting yourself like a prized piece of game.” Chit’s pale eyes roved appreciatively over Ezra’s face before focusing on the fitted trousers, boots, and jacket. Amusement twitched. “How long this time?”

“Nearly half an hour.” Ezra turned his heel slowly and ran a very real, very tangible hand across the alcohol cart. “I don’t know if I’m veiling my aura—”

“You’re not.”

Displeasure soured upon Chit’s cheery declaration. He then refocused on the alcohol, finding his mood uplifting. “One of the positives of turning tangible is the sense of _normalcy_ it brings. It’s as if my limbs are no longer bound. I can take a deep breath of air. Fill my lungs. I can secrete tears. I can swallow. I can enjoy whiskey…”

He longingly touched the decanter of whiskey.

He hadn’t partaken since his mortal death.

Turning tangible was difficult and draining. He hadn’t had time nor energy to sip from his favorite supply.

But he was up to thirty minutes now, the longest he’d ever remained physical. He was also nearby his mortal vessel during this experiment, his constant presence and touch fending off the negative side-effects his absence typically brought forth. He remembered, after returning from his hunt, the horror and devastation he felt upon seeing the black fingers of his mortal body.

It had taken the palace servants several hours to clean up the shattered and broken evidence of his tantrum.

He’d been hesitant to leave his body after that.

“That’s good, because a drunk and disorderly God of Death wreaking havoc across the mortal realm would be _ideal_.” A pause lulled the sarcasm, but just for a moment. “And you can secrete tears? Does that mean you were having a good weep in my absence? Shall I disappear more often?”

Ezra’s face darkened. “I meant they aren’t dry like—” he threw a gloved hand in his mortal’s direction. “The apothecary finds it unusual that I order so many eye drops.” He dropped his hand when he noticed Chit’s curious observation.

Nonchalantly, he tucked his right hand within his jacket.

“Forget your mortal husk, what about _your_ hand?”

The Syphon shuffled forward and Ezra took a step back. He turned his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Ezra.”

“It is fine, Chitragupta.”

Upon being addressed so formally, Chit stopped his advance and reconsidered his approach. “It is unlikely to be permanent. Yama could turn into a skeleton on whim. It is just that form bleeding through.”

“On one hand?” Ezra asked darkly. He released a bitter and dry scoff. “I have been cursed with ugly hands in all lifeforms.”

“You can have two boney arms and legs and no one would notice with such an irresistible face.” Chitragupta scooted closer, his mood in high spirits despite Ezra’s long-lasting gloom and despair. Yet, upon seeing Ezra’s withdrawn features, his chilling grin faltered and turned serious. “Has it progressed further? Is it only to the first knuckle?”

Reluctantly, Ezra withdrew his arm from his jacket’s lapels. His left hand remained flawless and burn-free, still an unusual sight for Ezra.

His right hand, however…

He tugged off the glove. His fingers waved at him, lacking flesh, lacking tendons. Holding up the hand, he allowed Chit to see the gradual progression of skeletal bone. Fortunately, they still functioned normally despite the anatomic unlikeliness.

“Near the third and last joint.”

Once Chit got his look, Ezra promptly recovered it with his glove.

“It is a bit alarming,” Chitragupta murmured pensively with a considering gaze. “Yama never strayed in the mortal realm for long, so I do not know much about the repercussions. This is not your realm, Ezra, it is possible it is trying to tell you it does not appreciate your presence. Once you step back in Elisium and Naraka, I am hopeful your hand will recover.” Something seemed to further bother the Syphon.

“What is it?” Ezra drawled as he sat next to his mortal body.

“It may be…” Chit trailed of tentatively, garnering Ezra’s cold stare. “We should no longer dwell—”

“I know. I know your thoughts on the matter.”

“But you will remain persistently stubborn even when it clearly affects your health.”

“Gods do not have something as mundane as good or bad health.”

“You’d be surprised,” Chit mused. “While the Essence acts as a natural healing accelerator and prevents mortal-like illnesses, there are curses designed specifically for deities.”

The Essence did not only act as a continuous healing factor, as Ezra had come to learn, but it also alleviated much of what made humans _human._

The unsightly vulnerabilities were not present with gods. There was no hunger. There was no need to eat. Though, if a deity did eat or drink, as Chitragupta indicated feasting and drinking were quite popular in Elisium, the Essence served as a natural aid for digestion as it burned through the food. There was no need for lavatories besides the splurge of a bath to wash away sweat or dirt. No need to sleep, but as Ezra learned, many deities did sleep to reenergize their spent Essences or, in some cases, they slept their existence away.

 _Like Agni…_ a voice reminded him. Agni, who’d been depressed, tired, jaded, and absolutely heartbroken.

Ezra found his attention drifting to the hair brushing his arms.

Paying Chitragupta no further attention, having already heard such cautionaries before, he reached out and played idly with a chunk of misbehaving hair. Beneath his bare fingers, the blue-black strands were soft and thick.

Tilting the hair one way, it was as black as night, but as he tilted it another way, the blue stood out vividly and resembled a raven’s feather.

“Are you going to cut it?”

Ezra looked up abruptly, dropping his hand and feigning nonchalance. “Of course, I am.” He observed the knowing smirk across Chitragupta’s face. “I hate long hair. It’s cumbersome. Unnecessary. My mother—” he misdirected. “It was expected for nobility and warriors to grow out their hair. I do not take kindly to expectations set by others.”

Wistfully, he recalled playing with long golden locks, admiring the array of white-blond, golden-blond, and red-blond all strewn together.

His fingers twitched at the memory that was both painful and nostalgic.

“Well, fortunately, Elisium does not hold such expectations for hair length.” Chitragupta glided forward. “You are free to do whatever you wish without worrying you are obediently following social constructions. You can remain the rebel.”

Ezra watched the Syphon’s approach, caring little for the conversation. “What did you discover in the Eurus Empire?”

Chit made a clucking noise with his tongue, indication he did not appreciate Ezra changing the topic. “I’m certain you want your _Zasitr_ to see your hair before you cut it, yes? In the interim, let me tie it up. I will show you what several long-haired warriors do in Elisium.” He hovered in Ezra’s personal space. “It will be out of your way.”

Ezra moved away, batting Chitragupta’s hands with an irritated pass. “What is a _Zasitr_?” he demanded.

Chit stared at him with pale, colorless eyes, feigning innocence.

If this was his way of drawing Ezra out and pretending all was good and—

“If you allow me the honors, I will tell you what it means. Besides, it is best you know what a _Zasitr_ is before you hear it from the other gods.”

Ezra ran an unimpressed eye down Chitragupta’s spirited expression before turning his back on the Syphon. He remained stiff as a board as Chitragupta ran his hands through Ezra’s hair before he abruptly disappeared. Ezra turned around quickly when he heard the sound of ripping fabric. Chitragupta proudly held up a piece of blue fabric, the curtains swaying unevenly behind him.

“Chit…” Ezra trailed off exasperatedly.

“Put your head forward, _Master Reaper_.”

A hand pressed to the back of his head and forced Ezra to bow. He scowled fiercely as the hands roamed through his hair and scalp, seemingly sating their desire to feel and to touch. A thick curtain of hair fell in front of his eyes as Chitragupta gathered several strands at the nape of his neck. Ezra felt the beginning of a braid make its way up his skull and he stilled unnaturally.

Envisions of Cyra sitting nicely for Talia flashed before his eyes.

All of them had been there.

His team. His family.

Complete. Happy. Carefree and eager to prove themselves.

“A _Zasitr_ is your beloved. Agni.”

Ezra stiffened further upon hearing the name spoken aloud. “If it was that simple, you’d just say ‘beloved’ or ‘lover’.”

“It’s not that simple,” Chit responded mildly as he worked on the braid. “Agni is your _Zasitr_. You are Agni’s _vazya_.” A pause full of stifled amusement. “The words describe whom is the aggressor and whom is the submissive.”

Ezra was unfazed and replied neutrally. “We are equals.”

“Not in the sense I am subtly trying to explain, little one.”

Ezra’s lashes lowered when he realized Chitragupta’s insinuating. “It is no one’s business how we conduct our sexual relationship.”

“It’s not. But the gods are entertained with labeling such things. Remember, fledgling, these are ancient beings. Just because they are old does not make them mature and wise. They are bored. They find entertainment where they can.” The braid tightened. “I am sure they will adore you. Such an attractive major god, but one so very young and already belonging to such an ancient and influential god like Agni. They will poke and prod, tease and flirt. They’ll be intrigued, fearful, and belittling. Do not trust anyone fully.”

Agni had once warned him of that.

Not trusting the gods.

At the time, Ezra hadn’t known Agni’s son had been eaten alive by unknown gods.

“Then it’s a good thing Elisium is locked down, no? Even the great Agni has yet to find a way through.”

Chitragupta’s hand paused. “So bitter.”

Ezra recalled the first time Chitragupta informed him of the lockdown. The Syphon had attempted to reach Naraka to search for Kai, and when he could not, he tried Elisium, only to discover that, too, was locked down. Ezra had been relieved. His anxieties over Agni abandoning him during such a time, gone. Only, the longer time passed, the greater his bitterness grew.

“As my counterpart, I had expected Agni to be clever enough to find a way through,” Ezra responded stonily.

“Perhaps Agni believes it’s _you_ whom should find a way through.”

No.

This was where Ezra needed to be. He’d made his intentions very clear to Agni. To the other gods. Concordia may be on the mend, but Calder was still not awake from his coma. Brooke was not ready to lead. The Eurus Empire was a looming threat. The economy was still in shambles despite the gradual start of a recovery.

“No matter.” Chitragupta pulled Ezra’s head up and gathered his loose hair together. “I know Indra well. He designed this scenario because he no longer felt in control. He will try his best to keep everyone inside the lockdown and to keep _you_ out. A punishment, of sorts, for abandoning him and returning here. I imagine, if you were to plead to him, he would be willing to negotiate.”

Pale eyes lowered with taciturn ire. “That would _never_ happen.”

“I know.”

Ezra sat in silence as Chitragupta tied the ribbon of fabric around his hair, securing it into a ponytail. As Chitragupta patted his head and moved away, Ezra cautiously reached behind him. It was essentially a standard ponytail, but a braid started at the nape of his neck and worked its way up to the ponytail, offering further security and control. The end of his ponytail reached the middle of his shoulder blades, and while it seemed… a bit bouncy and unfamiliar, it was practical and neat.

“I have my suspicions that there is more to it than a simple lockdown. Indra wants to make certain you know whom is in charge.”

Ezra stood from the divan, his resentment for Indra outweighing any silly expectations he harbored for Agni. “You seem to know Indra well.”

“I _was_ a god, remember?”

He offered Chitragupta a considering look. “What did you find in Eurus?”

Knowing Ezra would not tolerate further diversion, Chitragupta relented. “I did not see either the god or Syphon Kartikeya, but the former's traces were everywhere. The government there—”

“The High Priests.”

“The High Priests,” Chit revised irritably. “As well as their subordinates, all had traces of daemon influence on their souls. I believe—” Here, he paused, as if uncertain how to phrase it. “Your mother had intentions to use them to further destroy the kingdoms. It was her last act. Hit Concordia and the Terra Kingdom with disease and economic instability before bringing war and total obliteration.”

Ezra considered this. “It’s unsurprising. Her primary goal was to abolish the kingdoms, Concordia especially.” He glanced at Chit. “The daemons were enough to fuel the High Priests to declare war. Are the daemons no longer present? If so, why does the Eurus Empire still act?”

“Human greed. Opportunity to conquer more land and resources for themselves. As the God of War, Kartikeya has picked up where your mother and the daemons have left off. He is fueling their thirst for war and annihilation. He is not being coy. The monstrosities that I saw there.” Chit raised his pale eyebrows. “They are—I cannot describe them. They appear fierce and dangerous.”

“I need to go there.”

“Perhaps you should.”

Ezra paced slowly before his mortal body, his thoughts deep and critical. “I can wreak havoc there.” He pondered. “I don’t even know what I’m capable of yet, but I can test my abilities in enemy territory. Wipe out hundreds.”

“You are Death, Ezra.” Chitragupta’s stare was just as sharp and ominous as his tone. “You are a god. They are mere mortals. _Your_ mortals. Would you truly feel unashamed for the senseless slaughter your presence could evoke? The acquitted animals you are slaughtering are being herded and controlled by a master they can not understand nor fight against.”

A scoff, disbelieving and unamused, left Ezra’s smirking mouth. “They _are_ my enemies.”

Their eyes met and Chitragupta watched him doubtfully.

“They are Concordia’s enemies.”

Ezra waved his glove-clad hand. “Concordia is my territory. I am their king. Therefore, the Eurus Empire is my enemy.”

Chitragupta stood stiffly. His expression crafted into disapproving stone and his eyes hardened. “You gave up that right when you lost your mortality.” His pointed at Ezra’s mortal form. “ _He_ had the right to declare an enemy against an entire empire. Such words would be an empty, fleeting hope that he could stand equal might against them. But you? Someone with such an unfair and dangerous advantage?”

Ezra stared incredulously but Chitragupta was not done.

“Have you lost your way already? So soon?”

Ezra’s smile was fleeting and shaky. “I know my way.” Such an assertion sounded anything but confident.

“Truly?” Chit stared through Ezra. “You claimed your place was to love and cherish your mortal souls. That you would judge each one fairly and honestly. You would protect them. Cherish them. You held contempt for gods whom inserted themselves in the lives of mortals. Yet, you are doing the same thing now. The god you strived to be would never plan to annihilate a hoard of innocent souls for the sake of a mortal war.”

“What did you expect my role to be here? I jumped back for this very reason—”

“It is my understanding, Ezra, that you jumped back in order to mend Concordia. To pave way for future leaders. To make certain your heir is born healthy and strong. To demonstrate to Agni, to the other gods, that you harbor control over your own destiny.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Ezra argued. “The Eurus Empire declared war. That was out of my control. What would you like me to do? Plead to Indra to let me into Elisium before the war begins? Leave Concordia leaderless?”

“Negotiate with Kartikeya.”

Ezra reared away at such a suggestion.

“If you cannot reason with Kartikeya, then you fight Kartikeya. If you cannot negotiate with or fight Kartikeya, then you fight against the Eurus Empire in your mortal skin with your mortal capabilities.”

There was a sharp knock on the door before the guest entered uninvitingly.

Chitragupta’s form swirled before turning into a large raven. He flapped his way across the room and perched on top the mirror. At the same time, Ezra leaped into his mortal vessel, crying mentally in despair and misery as the cold prison enclosed around him. He stirred, his body feeling heavy, worn. As he looked up, he watched Brooke glide into his rooms as if she belonged there.

She offered him a stern look before walking past the divan and toward the large windows.

“It’s freezing in here.” With a flick of her wrist, she snapped open the heavy drapes.

Hazy sunlight poured into the room and Ezra shied away from it, his eyes unaccustomed. Even Chit gave a displeased croak as he buried his head underneath his wing. Brooke then proceeded to open the windows, allowing entrance to a warm breeze. It tickled the loose, blonde hairs at her temples and played with the rich fabric draping her form.

“Just because you are the God of Death does not mean you need shroud yourself with such a cliché atmosphere.”

“Brooke—”

“I told you I needed you to accompany me to the shelter today.” 

“I had an appointment at the military base, which is why I sent Councilman Sachiel to accompany you.”

“I do not care for Sachiel. He unnerves me with his persistent questions about your wellbeing,” Brooke stated with matter-of-fact. After observing the distant north, she turned away from the window and approached the sitting area. Her ire grew further once she spied the vase of dead, wilted flowers. “How many times must I insist they stop decorating your rooms with live vegetation?”

As if the flowers were personally responsible for their mournful state, Brooke promptly took the black stems and tossed them in the empty, unlit hearth. She then proceeded to tuck the empty vase behind a set of pillows.

Ezra leaned forward as he watched her. “Yes, I believe you’ve successfully hindered their attempts of replacing the flowers by hiding the vase. They would never think to look behind the pillows they fluff daily.”

Brooke tutted at his sarcasm, evidently not amused and still very much frustrated at the palace staff. “You don’t need to be constantly reminded…” she trailed off quietly.

Ezra gladly finished the comment for her.

“That I kill the living?”

He tilted his head pointedly toward Chitragupta but refrained from looking at the Syphon. Even Brooke proved his point. It’s what he did. He killed the living. What should it matter that he wanted to destroy the Eurus Empire before they destroyed Concordia?

She avoided his eyes and patted the pillow with finality. “Fragile things,” she whispered.

Ezra clasped his hands together, feeling his mouth move into a gentle, sincere smile as he watched her approach. She was dressed in a rose-colored gown today with gold accents. The material was loose around her middle and draped away from her figure in a flurry of elegant layers. She had a small bump already and had expressed an interest getting a wardrobe she could grow into until the end of her pregnancy.

Her and her brilliantly-glowing aura sat opposite of him on the low table. Ezra did not look down. Did not want to see that similar glow around her middle.

But it was there.

And it thrummed brightly.

“Fragile things?” Ezra repeated her earlier words with an unclear tilt of his head.

“Fragile things have the tendency to wilt before you. Like silly flowers that were cut from their stem.” Brooke clasped her hands together, her fingerless gloves displaying the bright red nails that she hadn’t changed since—

Since Cyra said how much she adored the color.

Ezra realized he started rubbing at the colorful bracelet around his wrist.

“But stronger, more willful things will continue to stand tall in your presence.”

She was trying to make a point and Ezra knew exactly what point that would be.

He had to at least admire her for trying.

“People will not easily crumble just because you spend time with them, Ezra.” Her long, arching neck bowed forward as she leaned closer to his silent and motionless form. “Avoiding them just further festers your fears and insecurities. Perhaps, if you spent more time with the ones whom care for you, you’ll realize you’re not as damned as you claim to be.”

_Eyes snapped wide open and honed in on him._

_The recovering warrior bucked and arched in his bed as he reached for Ezra in yearning._

_The Healers held him down._

_“B-beautiful,” the man gasped before turning limp._

_The Healers could not resuscitate him._

Ezra remained like a stone as he recalled the memory of his first and last visit to the infirmary. The warrior had been in critical condition, but the Healers had been optimistic he’d make a full recovery. That is, until Ezra graced the halls of the infirmary to visit the wounded warriors of the palace attack. The solider had seen something walking down that aisle that no other mortal could see.

And he’d been breathless with captivation before he gladly succumbed to the dark.

It’s why Ezra stubbornly avoided Calder’s bedside.

“Can you truly say you don’t sense a difference?” Ezra asked quietly as he peered into her pretty blue eyes. 

Despite her intentions of maintaining eye contact, she looked away. Her shoulders all but slumped as they admitted defeat. “There is a palpable darkness,” Brooke admitted. She seemed to consider something before nodding firmly to herself. “It’s so cold. It’s a frightening isolation.” She looked back up at him. This time determined. This time unfaltering. “But I don’t believe its because you’ve become Death.”

Ezra withheld the amused scoff. “Oh? Then what is it?”

“It is the agony and sorrow you hold so tightly inside. The self-loathing. Most people can perceive a broken soul and it unsettles them.”

Denying it was easy now. “I’m not broken.”

_Just callous._

_Just splintered._

Brooke observed him closely for a time, either believing him or sensing when she could push no further. She stood from the table, her intricate sapphire and diamond Talise ring catching the hazy rays from the open window. “Good. Then you won’t mind I made an appointment for you the day after tomorrow with a few of your allies. It is past due you accept their calls, Ezra, especially Talia, Viktor, and Aiden.”

Ezra opened his mouth to argue, but found he had no further excuses remaining. “This is just to get Sachiel off your back.”

Her painted lashes lowered with coy mirth. “I won’t deny my ulterior motives.” She turned, her fingers lightly trailing across his clasped hands. “Would you accompany me to dinner, My King?” She stood before his perched and silently observing form. “I know you cannot eat, but I would very much enjoy your company.”

Ezra glanced at Chitragupta.

The raven watched him steadily in turn.

He’d wanted to finish his conversation with the Syphon and also pay a visit to the Eurus Empire. However, Chit gave him many things to ponder over and Brooke did not request his attendance often.

He rose from his chair and followed his queen to the dinning hall.

On the way there, she mischievously dropped a shocking revelation. “We can use this time to think of names for our future son.”

Her words had him stopping both mentally and physically.

She knew.

A boy.

Ezra’s exhalation was shaky and relieved. He hadn’t asked Yamuna for a specific gender. At the time, he hadn’t cared if it was a boy or girl. He only cared that it did not possess any of the Reaper Essence.

Now, he could only thank the Goddess of Life and Fertility for not creating a daughter.

Instinctively, his hand sought the colorful threads around his wrist as he followed Brooke down the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concordia seems to be in a good state, doesn't it? Well.... let us wait for next chapter. As well, a royal heir is on his way. Like Cyra, this child will not play a huge role. Actually, he may play an even less of a role than Cyra. 
> 
> I am going to reply to all your comments from chapter 1! There are some good questions and comments you guys left that I look forward to responding to :) Thanks for such a warm welcome back! ♥


	3. Fraying Braids of Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Thanks:** To all of your comments-- they were so fun to read. Some of you may be confused AF, but we'll get there, promise. 
> 
> Also want to thank CaramelRaven for looking over the chapter and cleaning it up of any mistakes! It was also pointed out that I wasn't clear in Chapter 2 that the Kartikeya in the Eurus Empire is the god-Kartikeya. I had since revised chapter two to emphasize that point. Thanks for pointing it out! ♥

**3\. Fraying Braids of Thread:**

Dank and stale air permeated through Ezra’s nostrils as he entered the chambers. The palace staff came to Ezra with complaints, proclaiming they would no longer clean the suites, too afraid of the man’s short temper and flying projectiles. Plates of old and uneaten food lingered across the tables. Bottles of wine — empty, near-empty — were tipped on their side and stained the tiled floors.

Running an indifferent eye across his surroundings, Ezra moved inside, his boots crunching the shattered glass near the doorway and alerting the near-comatose occupant.

“Get out!” the voice roared hoarsely. “Get out.”

“Drunken already, uncle?”

Through the thin curtain separating the sitting area from the entryway, a figure stiffened unnaturally as Ezra’s voice sounded. The scarlet curtain could not hide the way Josiah’s shoulders slumped further upon realizing his guest’s identity. Prowling around the curtain, Ezra eyed the defeated figure perched at the edge of the divan.

Black locks were coated with grease. Even his bronzed skin had a layer of perspiration and oil. He was dressed in a simple tunic, the stains on the fabric a pitiful and revolting sight. It was even more difficult seeing the sight, simply because Agni had always portrayed a level of untouchable power and grace while wearing Josiah’s skin.

Seeing him so defeated was an eyesore.

Ezra stopped several paces away from Josiah and simply stared.

Curling his hands into fists, Ezra clasped them behind his back. Readjusting his perception was vital. This was no longer Agni. This was a man scorned several times in life by the grueling and desperate need to reclaim his position as king. This was a man the gods had destroyed. It was no secret what Josiah felt when Agni possessed him.

A chance for power.

Control.

With Agni, Josiah no longer felt vulnerable. He was no longer a lost, wandering prince of a defeated empire, one who had to give away his sister to the enemy, one who watched his people bow to the ‘superior’ race. His destiny was always planned by Agni. Everything was dictated, determined, and promised by Agni. Victory promised. Power promised. A kingdom promised.

Only, Agni had not made good on his promises.

Moreover, Agni had used Josiah until he was a twisted, wet rag, wrung far too many times to reclaim his proper shape.

“How many years did he use you?” Ezra inquired quietly. “Just short of twenty years, correct? I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.” He ran an eye across their surroundings. “Though, judging by your appearance and the state of your rooms, I believe I have an idea.”

Josiah remained slumped forward, his lips stained red from wine and unhygienic habits. His orange eyes remained unseeing, staring purposefully at Ezra’s boots. There were dark circles under his eyes, eyes that seemed far too bloodshot to be healthy. His nails, normally kept immaculately groomed and manicured by Agni, were bitten and dirty.

Ezra inhaled deeply.

“Relying on him—”

“Just stop,” Josiah croaked. He shook his head once with a marginal twist of his neck. “I’m pitiful for relying on him. I was dependent. I used his power as if it were my own and forgot the true meaning of being mortal. Yes. I know. You do not need to state it again and again and again.”

Ezra surveyed him sternly. “Agni was in the wrong.”

Josiah did not react outwardly, but his body stilled unnaturally.

“The way Agni uses mortals as if they are mere toys has always been an issue of mine.”

“Yet you adore him. You are his _consort._ ”

“We have our differences.” Ezra did not want to talk about Agni. Did not feel it productive to bring up the god. “Agni is gone. He is not coming back.” Josiah flinched at the cold truth. “Should he come back, for any reason, it is imperative you deny him possession. Use this time to regather your balance without your crutch. I don’t care if you spend the time drinking away your regrets and lost opportunities. I don’t care how you do it. But it is vital you do it.”

Ezra looked at the bottle of wine that appeared fresh. It was also half-way drunk.

“However, before I leave, there is one thing I must stress.”

It almost seemed pointless.

Encouraging Josiah.

Trying to prop him back on his feet.

Agni did such a thorough job filleting Josiah bare and exposed. The Fire God would have emphasized how impotent and weak Josiah was without his aid. Twenty years of such manipulation and deconstruction would take years to undo.

Ezra did not have years.

Neither did Josiah if he continued like this.

“Oh? And what is that?” Josiah inquired bitterly.

Ezra took a step forward and crouched down before his uncle.

Josiah perked up, appearing shaken.

“Knowing how reliant you were on Agni, I still found you incredibly impressive.” Ezra maintained firm eye contact. “Those moments where you were not controlled by Agni will always stay with me. In Region 20? When we fought side by side, I found a true partner. When the Magi trapped the gods at the capital, you offered something I could not. And when the daemons attacked the palace, you were the one to drive them away despite your near-death condition.”

Upon mention of the palace attack, Josiah’s features twisted with bitter resentment. His hand trembled as he reached for the bottle at his side. As he brought it up to drink, Ezra’s hand curled around his wrist, immediately stopping him.

Josiah dropped the wine bottle and used the hand Ezra held captive to reach for him.

Warm, sweaty fingers pressed forcibly into Ezra’s neck, feeling for the pulse that was not there.

Ezra steadied his balance and simply endured the rough, callous treatment.

Josiah laughed when he felt nothing but cold skin and the silent heartbeat. It was an ugly laugh. Both hostile and disbelieving. “Who are you to play the sympathetic martyr?” Josiah pressed his fingers into Ezra’s neck and pushed him away. “A god who got his way. Someone who can still play mortal and lead his kingdom. You enjoy the crown that much? Do you enjoy pretending to be mortal, knowing this is just a sliver of your existence and you can play whoever, whatever, anyway you please?”

Ezra pressed his hands into the floor to prevent a tumble from the shove that seemed far more forceful than it truly was. 

He stared listlessly at Josiah’s knees.

“Nothing here truly means anything to you. Does it?” Josiah sneered down at Ezra. “This is just practice for you. If you fail, you still have another existence waiting for you in the afterlife. As an infamous, fearsome _god._ The _Reaper!_ You’re just like the rest of them.”

The wine from the shattered bottle extended toward Ezra and soaked through his trousers.

It took him a long while to gather the strength and the willingness to rise to his feet.

When he finally gathered his bearings, he brought back his arm and backhanded Josiah across the face. The Igni royal jerked awkwardly, his entire body turning defensively to the side. “If that were the case, why would I bother with the likes of you?” Ezra inquired cruelly. “You’re not the only one who lost things that night. You’re not the only one who made sacrifices.”

His eyes briefly sought Josiah’s missing right arm.

From his elbow downward, there was nothing there but the loose fabric of his sleeve.

That was the most visible sacrifice belonging to Josiah. The others maybe not so noticeable on the outside, but just as scarring on the inside.

Agni. Ember. Nearly twenty years of his life.

Ezra turned his heel and retreated. “When you decide to pull your head from your ass, I may consider reinstating your military privileges. Maybe then, you can finally make a name for _yourself_.”

As he stormed out the door, he found his hand furiously rubbing the colorful and frayed bracelet around his wrist.

The colors had long since bled dull.

*** * * ***

Despite his current situation, he _did_ harbor optimism.

Yet, there was always a shadow of doubt lingering in the background. A shadow proclaiming that such optimism was silly. Things were gradually coming together for Concordia, but they did so with a fragility that emphasized how unstable the situation truly was. Chitragupta may claim Ezra stubborn and voluntarily blind, but he saw it. He saw the way the mortal realm was uncomfortable with his presence.

He could feel it.

A sense of not belonging.

He’d felt it the very moment he jumped back into his heavily-wounded and dead mortal corpse. He’d felt it as he stood before hundreds of mortals and addressed them as their temporary king.

The mortal realm grumbled and complained, but it remained a reluctant host.

The signs of its waning patience began weeks ago when Ezra’s skeletal fingers appeared. When his migraines worsened. When all he wanted to do was hole himself away from the thrumming auras and the breath of mortal life. It was his love for the mortal world that permitted him to tuck away much of his pain.

But that shadow remained persistent.

That shadow questioned when the mortal realm would no longer focus on Ezra, but rather his surroundings.

Therefore, it came as a surprise to hear it had been happening for weeks and he just hadn’t known about it.

They were all talking. Taking turns expressing their opinions or calmly debating among themselves. All were present today, with the obvious exception of Josiah and Calder. Even Ladon was here, quietly observing. All councilmen and councilwomen were courteous of each other’s opinions and counterarguments. A startling change of comradeship from just three months ago.

Ezra sat stiffly in his chair, his eyes open to the council chambers, yet his attention couldn’t be further from the present.

Not after he heard the several topics of gossip earlier in the meeting.

They repeated over and over in his head like a mantra.

_“Birds falling from the sky!”_

_“Healers proclaim the sick are not recovering. Death rates are on the rise. Surely the Healers are improperly diagnosing their condition.”_

_“Having some trouble with the new crops, Your Majesty. Inexperienced farmers. Rotting produce. We’ll try again.”_

Several believed it was a farce.

Those who did not see the crows and other black birds falling from the skies in a dead, petrified faint would consider it a coincidence. Those who did not witness the sick succumb despite proper treatment proclaimed the Healers insufficient. Those who heard of the new farmers unable to cultivate crops would blame it on the soil or their inexperience.

When Ezra heard this gossip from the Royal Council, however, he withdrew mentally.

Ice-like barriers closed down in his mind.

Perhaps he was overplaying his own abilities, but what else could cause these incidents but his presence?

He didn’t know how long he sat there with a listless and vacant expression. A heavy numbness settled deep in his bones, so much so that he found himself standing from his position at the head of the table without realizing it. Voices quieted. Eyes turned expectantly in his direction. He managed a formal nod toward Brooke and parted his dry mouth.

It took him several attempts to tear his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “I’m calling a recess. I want someone to look into the Healer’s proclamation of the sick not recovering from treatment. I also need a formal investigation into these failed attempts at farming. Get a seasoned farmer out there to survey the situation. We will resume tomorrow at the same time.”

Brooke inclined her head calmly, her expression pleasantly schooled yet her eyes were knowing as they watched him leave the room. 

An explosion of whispers followed his wake.

He didn’t hear any of it. 

Draped by a weighty fog, Ezra crossed the palace grounds in a state of obscure purpose. The Royal House of Worship loomed before him in a matter of minutes, its dark, gothic arches appearing almost new to him. He hadn’t stepped foot inside the chapel since his wedding and refused to attend liturgy even when Brooke insisted he at least show his face.

But he was here now.

He banished everyone from the chapel and slammed the doors shut.

In the desolation of silence, he leaned against the closed doors and gazed across the empty pews, imagining them full of eager and enthusiastic spectators. He envisioned the royal guards lined around the perimeter of the room with their new black and gold uniforms. They had made rank after two days of grueling trials and fierce competition. They were the first wave of elite warriors in the new era.

They deserved to be proud. They deserved to stand tall with honor for their kingdom.

The majority of them now gone.

Slaughtered and in pieces.

From the corner of his eye, he recalled Kai standing there looking especially proud.

But his pride was not focused on himself.

That beaming smile had focused exclusively on Ezra.

Ezra exhaled unevenly as a dry, bitter sob swelled through his wasted lungs. What escaped his mouth sounded raspy and sick. He leaned forward at the waist and stared down at his boots to compose himself.

He recalled being in the antechamber before the ceremony. Anxious. Unsettled. Especially on edge after receiving the letter from his mother. But then Agni had been there and that worry and unease had seemed insignificant in the god’s presence. He’d felt safe. Secure and protected. Pleasantly distracted over Agni having the audacity to obtain rights to his wedding wardrobe.

Such a sentiment was long forgotten and could only be remembered through painful nostalgia. He remembered it now, however. And it splintered and cracked his stubborn resolve. The face he’d showed the public, and to his reflection, shattered.

He looked back up, staring at Agni’s statue with renewed anguish.

“Agni.”

The name was unsteady on his tongue. It was his first time reaching out to the Fire God since their separation. He even avoided candles. Fireplaces. Lit sconces. Everything ached. He had built a resentment against Agni in order to hide what he truly felt. Isolation. Gut-wrenching need. Need for his counterpart in his darkest of days.

As the days passed, he even started disgusting himself for feeling so broken. Therefore, the resentment was easier to harness. It gave him the necessary resolve and strength to keep going.

Coupled with his expectations for Agni…

Agni was all-knowing. Agni was powerful. He was superior. Yet, he could not get through Indra’s lockdown when he knew how much Ezra sacrificed for him?

Ezra slid his palms against the doors to steady the rising panic.

Curling his hand into a fist, he slammed it into the door with self-disgusted urgency. “You’re pathetic!” The audible _crack_ of ice and bone sounded across the empty chapel, grounding him back into the present. He straightened before carefully and nonchalantly adjusting his tailored jacket. With a regenerated sense of control, he focused exclusively on the two statues situated at the end of the aisle.

“Varuna.” 

Their ceremonial basins remained unresponsive and dark.

Ezra continued forward, readjusting his tone to that of an avid worshiper. 

“Agni,” he called again. Beseeching. Imploring. “Varuna.” Worshipful.

Agni’s basin lightened first. The deafening _roar_ of fire was so fierce and violent, it took Ezra by complete surprise. The wall of flames stretched high into the air and glowed with an intensity that made it impossible to look at. The reaction was so instantaneous, so eager, that Ezra nearly felt guilty for not trying to reach out to Agni sooner.

Seeing the fire brought forth a strong emotion.

His stomach knotted with anticipation and longing. 

Suddenly, Varuna’s basin shuddered and a wave of water lifted from its depths. Momentarily distracted, Ezra watched as the water transformed into a sphere and rotated tranquilly. 

Under the attention of both gods, Ezra resumed his confident walk to the alter. “I almost feel self-conscious,” he proclaimed dryly. A cynical smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he moved forward. “I haven’t prayed since I was a young child, eager to reach a god that may or may not be there. Now that I know there are actual gods listening, it seems a bit more challenging.”

Even when their bond remained as quiet and closed as it had for several months, Ezra imagined he could feel Agni’s fond exasperation.

 _There was always a god listening, child,_ Agni would say.

Climbing the steps of the dais, Ezra fluidly landed on one knee before the two gods, angled slightly more in Agni’s direction. Placing an elbow on his raised leg, he lowered his head onto his fist, hoping to veil his expression should an undesirable emotion come across. 

“I don’t know how…” Ezra trailed off and fell silent as he struggled for the right words. He did not want to lament his situation. “Regardless of what Elisium thinks of me now, I am reaching out to the both of you because I must ask something of you. Concordia is at war with the god Kartikeya and the Eurus Empire. It is also clear the mortal realm does not tolerate my presence, being as I am the God of Death—”

Ezra pressed his curled fist further against his forehead and closed his eyes as he recalled the council meeting.

“If I am no longer here…”

He paused again.

Upon hearing the rumors this morning, his first instinct was to leave the mortal realm. Even if the unusual circumstances proved reasonably explained, it was best he started thinking of his next course of action. However, he could not beseech to Indra for entrance to the god realm.

He just couldn’t.

He’d find another way. But before he could…

“Concordia needs a proper leader.” Ezra dropped his fist from his forehead and gazed at Varuna’s statue. “The Healers claim Calder is in a coma because his water Element is attempting to heal the wounds he sustained from Yama. But I already absorbed those wounds on to myself. His Element is acting erratically. They cannot explain it, but I believe a meddling Water God is still intent on using Ladon as the next ruler of the Unda people.”

They could not speak, yet Ezra could sense the silence coming from Varuna as mulish.

He may be wrong.

Varuna may have no part in Calder’s condition. But in case he was…

“And Josiah?” Ezra canted his head toward the flames and felt his temper rise. “In your quest to completely dominate him, Agni, did you not realize what a broken man you would leave behind in your absence?” He clenched his fists. “Josiah is not fit enough to bathe, let alone lead the Igni people. And that is entirely your own doing.

“Despite what you planned before my conception, separating the Igni and Unda people is no longer practicable. Ladon is underprepared. Josiah is broken. These people have learned to live together for over twenty-two years. It is time you two do the same and move forward.” He looked between the two basins of elements. “Am I the only one who truly cares for these mortals? Concordia needs your blessings! Now!”

His voice was hoarse and angry.

The doors slammed open behind him.

Ezra stood up abruptly, a scathing insult on his tongue.

“ _My King_!” The royal guard stumbled forward. “The Eurus Empire! We’re under attack!”

And just like that, Ezra left behind his prayers and his reprimands.

He sprinted outside the chapel and out into the hazy-grey day.

Unexpectedly, the royal guard came to an abrupt halt and pointed _up._ Ezra squinted as he followed the hand into the skies. A sense of dread filled him at the peculiar and unnerving sight. Behind the grey, hazy clouds was an enormous dark shadow. There was a strange, deeply-resonating humming noise accompanying the shadow’s arrival that would easily unsettle onlookers.

Ezra didn’t even know what to compare it to.

He’d never seen or heard of such an object.

It appeared large and elongated. How such an object could stay afloat, Ezra did not know. He squinted further; his mind unable to provide him with a reasonable explanation of how this object functioned. Nowhere in his science or history textbooks did they mention something this large. The only thing he could compare it to was an enormous lantern being lifted into the air.

Enormous in the sense that it was larger than a boxcar. Maybe three boxcars put together!

The object had two shapes Ezra could discern from behind the clouds. The top appeared larger and likened to the balloons he’d loved as a child. The bottom half appeared a bit smaller and more basket-like, as if… as if actual _people_ could travel inside it.

Suddenly, something small dropped from the shadow.

Ezra barely traced its descent before the earth trembled violently and a deafening detonation sounded in the distance.

Eyes widening in horror, he watched a plume of angry smoke ascend to the skies. Distant screams dispersed through the previously quiet capital with heart-wrenching fear and grief. Ezra stumbled on his feet in his haste to move to the palace. His thoughts were in a whirlwind. Possibilities. Questions. Fears. How he needed to deal with this _now._ Now.

Something so unknown and fearsome—

“Your Majesty, it’s leaving!”

Ezra whirled back around, searching for the shadow.

It had lifted further into the skies, disappearing from view, but Ezra observed it turning west.

A cold anger settled.

“For now,” he murmured darkly. He turned his heel to grab reinforcements to survey the capital damage. Why did he even bother rebuilding? “This was a trial run. It’s on its way to the Terra Kingdom to test its distance capability.” Having been alerted by the explosion, several royal guards rushed down the corridor to meet him. “Once they successfully run the trial, I can guarantee there will be more than just one here.”

“How will we defend against it?”

Ezra’s eyes glinted. “I’ll find a way.”

*** * * ***

“Are you prepared?”

Ezra took a few calming breaths and stared at the empty hearth. His heavily gloved hand reached up to touch the sword strapped securely to his back. With a small nod, he stood from the divan. “Traveling through shadows…”

“Is a natural ability of the Syphon and daemon. Obviously, their master, who, may I add, is also part-Syphon, also harbors the ability.” Chitragupta watched him soberly but with a small hint of amusement. “Of all the things to be afraid of, Ezra, becoming one with the shadows is what truly gets your heart racing. Unbelievable.”

“I simply don’t understand the process,” Ezra argued. “Ignorance does not sit well with me. How can we travel through the shadows and arrive exactly where we want to go in a margin of the time?”

Chit held out his hand. The pale flesh stood out starkly in the dimly-lit room. “The shadows will guide us. We—or rather I—have a clear image of the Eurus Empire. The only time shadow travel has the potential to be dangerous is when gods or goddesses ward their surroundings to prevent such travel. The Eurus Empire is far too large for Kartikeya to ward against us.”

Ezra recalled the explosion today at the capital and the devastating damage the warcraft left behind. If the God of War could incur that kind of damage, Ezra imagined he had several more tricks up his sleeve.

“And Naraka and Elisium?”

“I’ve already tried,” Chit explained patiently. “Indra’s lockdown is effective against our means of travel. While there are no runes in place, it’s a blanket-like shield preventing our entry.”

Ezra placed a gloved hand in Chit’s.

“Turn intangible.”

Under Chitragupta’s amused guidance, Ezra kept his hand tightly locked around the fingers as he turned intangible. His body became weightless as the floor beneath his feet disappeared. Despite their intangible forms, Chitragupta was a firm presence at his side. He abruptly pulled Ezra across the room and dove into the corner where darkness embraced them.

They were moving quickly.

Ezra would have been ecstatic over such a thrill; only, his mind furiously worked to make sense of his surroundings or lack thereof. There were outlines of buildings and objects that seemed lighter or darker than their surroundings. They passed by too quickly to examine. Ezra found it easier on his senses if he did not concentrate on his vision, but rather paid attention to the string of incomprehensible voices he could hear.

The eerie voices sunk deep into his skin, penetrating deeper than the chill of the shadows. Ezra nearly lost focus of Chitragupta’s guidance, too distracted by the whispers and the chorus of voices. A strange tug pulled him towards them, made him want to sit and listen for hours on end. Get his fill. Discern their messages. Assist in their sufferings. Extract revenge in their name.

Chitragupta tugged.

Ezra followed reluctantly, feeling the voices reach after him and caress the back of his neck.

And then they were gone and he was in the Eurus Empire.

Or rather, in the outskirts of the Eurus capital. The tall buildings and elevated transportation tracks were settled just on the horizon, not too far from their current location. Ezra hovered momentarily, staring down at the expansive vacant land. As he descended, his form turned tangible as he came upon the train tracks. Planting his boots upon the metal guardrail, he sought Chitragupta.

“What were those voices?” Ezra asked.

Chitragupta remained intangible for quite some time, the dark stain of his presence visible even in nightfall. “It’s best you do not dwell on them.” The Syphon appeared behind him with gleaming eyes of silver. “I cannot hear them. But I know Yama did.” A terse pause. “He did not take well to them in the end.”

“What are they?”

Chit smiled inauspiciously. “The voices of Naraka.”

Ezra turned his shoulder on Chitragupta and focused his attention elsewhere, still feeling his hair curl at the unfriendly and spine-chilling chorus of voices. Agni had stressed Naraka was sentient. There was a chance that Ezra would have to prove himself to the underworld. Just from that brief contact with Naraka, Ezra knew his task reigning the underworld would not be an easy nor pleasant one.

Hardening his mind and emotions, he slowly walked alongside the train track. One foot in front of the other, he balanced on the rail and ran an assessing eye across his surroundings. It was a scrapyard. Scraps of metal and other pieces of tools and junk littered about. Region 20 had their fair share of junkyards where the children would search and collect scraps of things that looked useful.

They were never useful.

Stopping, he felt a raindrop descend from the sky and hit him in the center of his forehead.

It rolled down his cheek as he gazed skyward.

Suddenly, a menacing-looking lightning bolt struck ground not too far from his position followed by an earsplitting crack of thunder. Chitragupta, taken off guard by the noise, cursed loudly behind Ezra, who otherwise remained unaffected. His gaze grew shrewd as he felt the heavy presence of the divine. It was a similar sensation to the day he battled against Yama.

Whoever sent the lightning bolt, whether it be Agni warning him of Kartikeya’s presence, or Indra warning Kartikeya of Ezra’s presence, Ezra recognized it for what it was. The gods were preparing for some entertainment.

And Ezra had walked right into the arena.

He continued walking along the ledge of the train track while keeping a look out for War Gods. “Chit,” Ezra called. “I hope one day I can be just as bored and purposeless as the great gods of Elisium.”

He could feel Chit’s amusement behind him. Whether cautious over their audience or just thinking of the best response, the Syphon took some time to respond. “Knowing you, I imagine you’ll always find yourself in some sort of trouble. No time for boredom.”

“Very true,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t want to turn out like Indra and waste away my existence by picking battles with newborn gods.”

The mortal world rumbled with menacing thunder.

This time, Chitragupta wisely held his tongue from furthering Indra’s ire.

Jumping across the track, Ezra landed on the opposite rail and observed the other side of the junkyard. Unlike the random piles of what appeared to be abandoned scraps, this side of the track housed an array of… he really didn’t know what. Heavy fabric spread across the ground, stretching far as Ezra could see. There were also enormous basket-like transporters propped next to the massive pieces of fabric.

Ezra frowned.

“These,” Chit spoke directly next to Ezra’s ear. “I saw them yesterday. They are—”

“What attacked the capital today,” Ezra finished quietly. “Only deflated.”

Ezra didn’t know what to call the flying contraptions but there were many of them. It was difficult to get a good count as the heavy fabric was so large and took up quite a bit of room. Jumping down from the ledge, he stalked amid the warfare weapons. Stopping before the closest one, he crouched down and lifted the edge of the fabric. It was heavy. It would take a great deal to puncture.

Several more raindrops fell and hit Ezra purposefully.

Ignoring Varuna’s warnings, he crawled across the fabric and inspected the hunk of metal placed near the bottom. He lowered his face, squinting at the mechanics. He was no expert on machinery. Besides his fascination with advancements of electricity and other modern-day inventions like the camera and plumbing, he knew nothing about the systematics.

He only knew one thing.

It was vital it not be smashed to pieces.

“Chit.”

Ezra did not have to say anything further. The Syphon made a noise of confirmation before he abruptly disappeared. 

The rain fell a bit heavier and pitter-pattered across the robust material of the air weapon. Raising himself on his haunches, he stared down at the weapon but his other senses searched his surroundings. He could sense the God of War lingering nearby. Like mortals, his body reacted differently around gods now that he was the Reaper. Only, gods did not induce migraines and irritability. He was intrigued by the subtle allure.

The Essence truly was lovely. 

And it made his normally quiet stomach spasm with a desire to taste. It was easily ignored, easily stifled, but the instinct to consume was still intact despite turning into a god himself.

Ezra calmly stood and began his hunt for the hunter.

Quickly approaching the tracks, he jumped on top the guardrail and bounded back over into the junkyard.

He swiftly zigzagged through the piles of junk, losing the weight of eyes that had once rested on his back. Turning intangible, he became weightless and hovered high into the air. Kartikeya would either shroud himself with mortal skin or he would take some sort of physical form. He would not risk turning intangible with the proximity of two entities capable of consuming him whole.

A shadowy figure moved between the mounds of junk, retracing Ezra’s earlier steps.

He was surprised to see the form not belonging to an Eurus mortal, but rather Kartikeya himself.

 _Bold_.

Ezra’s eyes roved voraciously over the God of War, drawing the similarities between father and son.

Agni may not consider this Kartikeya his son, refused to acknowledge his real son’s ‘ _replacement’_ as his, but he looked identical to the previous Kartikeya. Ezra would bet this doppelgänger, was, in fact, a product of Svaha and Agni. In that case, it was not so much a ‘copy’ as it was a true flesh and blood child of Agni who happened to share the same face, name, and purpose as his previous predecessor.

Kartikeya and Agni both shared the broad shoulders and the tall stature. And as Kartikeya withdrew his sword, no doubt sensing Ezra’s gaze, he drew attention to the strong hands and defined forearms. Kartikeya and Agni were not overtly muscular, but Ezra knew both gods were remarkably strong.

His throat could attest to that.

“Come out, Reaper,” Kartikeya called, his voice deep, firm, and confident. “I can sense you watching.”

 _More like ogling the characteristics you inherited from your dad,_ Ezra mused as he briefly turned tangible. Grabbing hold of a small trinket on top the junk pile, he tossed it further down the way. It clattered quite a distance away, drawing Kartikeya’s immediate attention. His shoulders coiled but he did not fall for the diversion.

Ezra smiled predatorily.

Wanting to create as much distance between Kartikeya and Chitragupta, Ezra realized he could not rely on juvenile tricks. Kartikeya wanted to play intimately and Ezra was more than happy to oblige.

Crouching down on top the pile of mechanical junk, he observed Kartikeya’s unaware back for quite some time. The rain was steadily growing stronger and the thunder rumbled in the distance. Ezra gave it little regard. “I suppose you have no interest negotiating,” Ezra said coolly, drawing Kartikeya’s reflexive attention. “You look like a god on a mission and nothing can dissuade you.”

Kartikeya found Ezra’s looming figure with his eyes.

Unlike the Syphon-Kartikeya, this one had the color of deeply-bronzed skin. Ezra recalled seeing Kartikeya in Agni’s memories. How the god resembled the Igni people. Even from his position, if it were daylight, he’d imagine he’d see those fierce, orange eyes looking back at him.

“It is not my place to negotiate my king’s orders.”

“Ah.” Ezra clasped his hands together. “You’re a good little soldier. Indra is fortunate to have you in his ranks.”

“All gods rightfully follow our king’s orders.” He walked closer to the mound Ezra perched upon. “What makes you an exception?”

He looked at the God of War’s formidable and handsome expression, finding more amusement in the situation than insult. Indra most likely wanted Ezra to be upset, spiteful, and traumatized enough to warrant eventual defeat. Unfortunately for the King of Gods, Ezra was not going to grant him that.

“Indra has yet to give me any orders,” he proclaimed stonily. “How could I be an exception if he has not requested anything of me?”

Kartikeya grinned roguishly. He had facial hair across his strong jawline, something Ezra could not remember Syphon-Kartikeya possessing. “It is implied what King Indra wants.” He pointed his sword at Ezra. “He wants you.” Lowering the sword, he considered Ezra. “Should you continue to stay here, in the mortal realm, the consequences of evading Indra’s orders will be great. Considering you are a mortal-sympathizer, I suggest making haste in being a ‘ _good little soldier_ ’.”

Oh, but Kartikeya had bite.

Ezra observed him keenly, picking apart his words and wondering at the weight of his threat. “If Indra wants me so badly, he is certainly playing hard to get by locking down Elisium and Naraka.”

“It’s easy to gain access. Ask him nicely. Show a little bit of obedience.”

An eyebrow quirked. “Obedience…” he trailed off with an overexaggerated drawl. “Like kneeling?” In the distance, his ears picked up the unmistakable sound of smashing metal. He stood up abruptly, reinforcing Kartikeya’s attention on him and away from Chitragupta’s meddling. “I’m afraid I only kneel for one god and it’s not Indra.”

It took a brief moment for Kartikeya to comprehend the innuendo and whom it was aimed toward. When the realization came to him, Ezra watched in rapt amusement as his face reddened with anger.

Just when Kartikeya made a move to lunge up the pile in his fury, Ezra jumped down to meet him. His boots hit the ground momentarily before he pounced forward, engaging Kartikeya with teasing immediacy and avoiding his sword expertly. “Temper runs in the family, I see.” His hand barely skimmed Kartikeya’s waist before he danced away with a croon. “I wonder what else you inherited from your father.”

With rapid reflexes, Ezra withdrew his sword from his back holster and parried away the tip of Kartikeya’s blade.

Ezra knew, with that simple lunge alone, that Kartikeya would be a fierce and aggressive opponent.

His mirth fell way to cold determination.

He refused to lose yet another thing.

Even if it was a duel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Discord-- lol-- it was brought to my attention that I needed to clarify Yama's ability of consuming souls. Agni claimed, in Ember's Intermission Part 3, that Yama destroyed a part of his soul/Essence by creating the Syphons. As a result, he became part-Syphon, which is why Ezra is part-Syphon. Yamuna used his tainted Essence to create Ezra. He inherited that mess from donor-Yama. 
> 
> If there is ever any confusion or questions-- please let me know! I'm happy to answer and clarify. :)
> 
> Also, Noah created another wonderful fanart, this time of Yamuna!! Thanks so very much ♥ You can see her [here.](https://solemnitydreamer.tumblr.com/post/616862587743797248/yamuna-aww-badbyeoah-spoils-me)


	4. Price of Playing with Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a huge thank you to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing the chapter!! ♥

**4: Price of Playing with Fire**

Kartikeya’s attack was diverted just barely, nearly shaving Ezra’s cheek with the proximity. Adjusting his sword, Ezra blocked another attack coming at him strong. The hits were just as aggressive as the ones Agni delivered, if not more so.

It was to be expected.

Kartikeya was the God of War, after all.

Ezra sprang to the balls of his feet and shifted further away, lowering into a proper stance as he engaged Kartikeya’s assault. Kartikeya may have been a powerful swordsman, but when it came to technique, he wasn’t quite as refined as his father.

From the onset, Ezra quickly alternated between hands, tossing his sword in midair before maneuvering on his pivot foot and grabbing it with his opposite hand. Kartikeya faltered several times as Ezra pursued him with alternative hands and styles of combat. There were several instances where Kartikeya’s recovery was sloppy and painfully rushed. Ezra took advantage of those brief moments, his attacks unrelenting and quick.

They shuffled and stomped in the mud as they careered around each other. 

He found if he remained on the offensive, he had the upper hand.

Kartikeya may have been much stronger.

Much larger.

But Ezra was faster.

More versatile.

But _Agni,_ Kartikeya was solid and fierce. Ezra grunted as he absorbed a particularly strong attack from the God of War. His arm nearly turned numb with the power behind the hit and his teeth rattled with the force. His boots slid in the sludge of mud as Kartikeya applied pressure against their joined blades. Pieces of hair loosened from Ezra’s ponytail and fell into his eyes in a soaking, miserable mess.

Ezra clenched his teeth together and seethed under the fall of rain as he continued to be pushed backward. The ground did not aid in his dilemma. The slippery mess all but abetted Kartikeya’s heave. Ice cracked suddenly behind Ezra, growing from the mud and encircling his feet in order to stop the wet traction. Reobtaining control and balance, Ezra readjusted his hold on his sword and pushed back with equal might.

Harnessing the Cold had nearly depleted his energy.

It occurred to Ezra he was not yet experienced enough to hold physical form and wield his powers in the mortal realm. Not even a day ago, he had congratulated himself by holding a physical form for half an hour.

“Where is your smart tongue now?” Kartikeya jeered.

The God of War’s face puckered against the fall of heavy rain, his own long hair finding its way into his eyes. Water poured down the crown of his head and pelted upon Ezra’s upturned face, further distracting the shorter god. In response to Ezra’s focused silence, Kartikeya’s mouth grimaced into a smile as he shoved him with all his might.

Breaking through the ice, Ezra landed in the murky, standing water. Mud embraced him from behind, wrapping around his chest and torso and splashing across his face. Ezra spat out the mud from his mouth and quickly got back to his feet. He clutched his sword with his gloved hand and shuffled determinedly closer to Kartikeya.

They circled one another, sizing each other up critically.

Ezra feinted. Kartikeya jerked, nearly falling for the deception, before his hulking form jumped back to meet Ezra’s attack with surprising agility. Pivoting, Ezra dropped his attack and dodged beneath Kartikeya’s defense. He spun in the mud, sprinting toward a particularly large junk pile. Leaping, his boots planted against a sturdy base before he lunged back toward Kartikeya.

Airborne, he descended on Kartikeya, using both hands around the sword’s hilt for extra strength and leverage.

Momentarily taken aback, Kartikeya quickly brought his blade up and jumped to meet Ezra’s attack.

Their blades clashed and Ezra shouted in denial as his sword splintered and broke. As he descended, Kartikeya slammed his fist into his ribs, sending him to the ground in a mangled heap. Ezra landed on his stomach, tasting another mouthful of mud. Disorientated, he lifted his face from the muddy waters and stared at the broken Igni sword a distance away.

Something painful throbbed at the sight of Master Idris’ sword lying so discarded and useless in the mud.

Around the broken hilt, Wayde’s and Keegan’s ivory and black mourning braids were limp and muddy.

Ezra’s lips trembled.

“Mortal blades are no match against blades forged by deities. But you wouldn’t know that, being as you are a newborn with little knowledge of our ways.” Kartikeya crouched next to Ezra’s limp form. “A naïve and young god trying to find his own way while simultaneously standing up to the King of Gods. You stand little chance.”

Ezra’s skeletal hand curled into the mud. 

Kartikeya smiled, his demeanor briefly shifting into what Ezra remembered when they first met after the Igni festival. That young, eager, and uncomplicated god that seemed far more interested in battle strategy and weaponry than in politics or gossips. The one who had to have Svaha place a restraining hand to his knee to temper his excitement.

“I will say, for being a newborn, you are an impressive warrior.” A hand reached out to touch Ezra’s hair, hesitant at first, before rough and greedy. Fingers curled near his roots and pulled his head back. The orange gaze was contemplative as he thoroughly absorbed Ezra. “The hand altering. The rhythm changes. If only you were a bit larger—”

Harnessing the Cold, he turned his elbow into ice and slammed it into Kartikeya’s nose.

He then used his shoulder and shoved it into Kartikeya’s torso.

Both actions resulted in audible _cracks._

“You act as if we’re finished.” Ezra lunged toward Kartikeya, who stumbled backward quickly. “We’ve only just begun, _fledgling._ ”

As Kartikeya pressed a hand to his nose, Ezra got back to his feet.

He took a step closer to the War God and slowly raised his hands on either side of him. He had wondered why Varuna was assaulting them with rain. At first, he’d believed it was a warning to Kartikeya’s presence, and as the rain continued harder, faster, Ezra had believed the Water God was just fucking with him and making the battle more difficult.

But that wasn’t it at all.

Varuna was assisting.

Ezra thought back to the Concordia capital attack. Back when he was an ignorant mortal on the verge of discovering the true depth of the gods’ reach. It had been raining then, too. He had climbed upon his conjured piece of ice and reached victoriously into the heavens, dramatically proclaiming, _“Varuna has betrayed you. His element becomes my weapon.”_

He had then proceeded to turn Varuna’s rain into ice to fend off his enemies.

Had Varuna remembered? Had he used that memory to reach out to Ezra now, to support him? The idea of conjuring ice out of no where seemed as if it would task his strength and energy unnecessarily, but if he manipulated rain and water already in the environment then—

Kartikeya seemed unsurprised at Ezra’s ice abilities. The falling ice proved to be a mere nuisance. It bounced off his thin, leather armor while the larger shards were abruptly batted away with his swift and efficient blade. “Do you believe Indra and Tvastr would send me to battle without being properly equipped? Do you believe _I_ would be so unprepared not knowing my enemy?”

His sword began to glow.

As did the leather armor.

Ezra blinked irritably and averted his eyes. It was similar to the glow Indra had harnessed when he’d grounded himself and dispersed the daemons. Only, not nearly as painful to withstand, but evidently far warmer. The ice nearing Kartikeya lost much of its lethality and became nothing but a thin, hollowed, and unthreatening shell of its former glory. It melted before even reaching Kartikeya.

“Impressive,” Ezra spat as he searched his surroundings. “Does it come in black?”

A wave of dizziness hit Ezra and he nearly staggered on his feet. It was not from Kartikeya’s armor, but rather from the drain of his energy. Pushing away his wariness, he continued to look for possible weapons.

His sword may be broken, his energy may be waning, but he was not yet finished.

Kartikeya suddenly snapped his head around in the direction of the aircrafts. The god grabbed something from his belt before tossing it across the other side of the tracks. Ezra reached for a heavy metal rod just as a flash of painful white light encompassed the distance. Over the rain, a scream of pain could be heard and Ezra knew it to be Chitragupta.

Not deterred, or willing to give up so easily, Ezra sprinted toward Kartikeya and swung the pole. Kartikeya made to deflect it, but Ezra twirled it and slammed the other end into Kartikeya’s torso.

Kartikeya’s blade nearly caught his face.

Ezra bent over backward to avoid it.

As he straightened, he lunged again before abruptly turning intangible. Kartikeya’s sword stabbed the area he once stood, effectively taking him off balance. As Ezra materialized behind him, he took advantage of Kartikeya’s awkward stance by knocking his feet out from underneath him. He then slammed the makeshift staff against Kartikeya’s shoulders.

The God of War went down with a _splash_ in the mud.

Eyes burning from the glowing armor and sword, Ezra pushed past his discomfort and bore down on Kartikeya. The god blocked the staff with his blade. The hot temperature from the sword immediately phased through the metal rod, cutting it in two. Kartikeya jumped to his feet and Ezra jumped backward and then again as the God of War came at him furiously.

Clearly, Kartikeya did not appreciate being knocked down.

Eager at his opponent’s change of demeanor, Ezra’s adrenaline spiked and his bloodlust soared.

He tossed the two pieces of metal into the air before catching them in a proper hold. Besides playing around by himself, he’d never wielded dual staffs or blades. Had never fancied himself good enough to do so despite being ambidextrous. Yet, as the situation demanded it of him, he adapted readily. He was no seasoned warrior. Not even passable, yet he wielded them well enough to further enrage Kartikeya.

Not caring what his form looked like, he swung them erratically.

Just to rile _Kart_.

He avoided Kartikeya’s blade as much as possible and focused on hitting parts of the god’s body that were not covered with glowing armor. As he moved to Kartikeya’s side, he aimed for the god’s lower back, but as the god moved, the pole ended up slapping his ass. Hard.

Kart did not appreciate that.

Not at all.

The god went feral.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ezra taunted as he shuffled backward. “Despite what my actions may look like, I really do prefer your father.” If Ezra were not in a state of hurried defense, he may have found the situation quite comical. He jumped backward quickly as Kartikeya lunged at him in rage, his gibe undoubtedly riling the god further.

Agni was a very sore subject for this Kartikeya.

For both Kartikeyas.

As Ezra moved over the wet ground, hands of ice broke through the mud. Then arms. Then shoulders. Ice bodies emerged from the saturated ground and charged at Kartikeya.

The God of War was not distracted. He plowed through them on his way to Ezra, swiping his sword and further melting the dual staffs in Ezra’s hands. The makeshift weapons dropped to the ground and Kartikeya backhanded Ezra when the younger went to dodge the sword lunge. Ezra stumbled, trying to break his fall, but he could do nothing to maneuver away from danger.

Before he could turn intangible, Kart’s blade swiped across his chest.

Ezra blinked, taken aback at the _burn_ and the _pain_ such a small skin lesion caused. He cried out hoarsely and sunk back to the ground. In his moment of pained distraction, Kartikeya brought back down his sword for a much more damaging strike.

Only, the god’s attack was deflected by a large, thick piece of iron.

Cupping his chest, Ezra looked up, surprised to see the other Kartikeya—the Syphon— standing before him, warding off the threat. Pain coiled and spasmed through his chest. Ezra hissed as he turned intangible, groaning when he realized being intangible made things much worse. He turned corporeal again, dropping to the ground and curling over his broken sword.

Through his drooping eyelids, the world turned white with endless lightning.

The thunder was both frightening with intensity, yet oddly calming when he knew the source behind that natural chaos.

Agni.

A strong hand grabbed him. Shook him. “Turn intangible.” The stranger curled a hand around the back of his collar and picked him up like a mother would pick up her wayward cub. Ezra barely noticed. Besides clutching at his broken sword, he hung limply in the grasp, his body growing scarily hot, his mind foggy and disorientated.

Ever the persistent bother, the hand pulled him up further until Ezra’s back rested against a broad chest. An arm wrapped around his waist, holding him upright.

“Will you allow a scant _cut_ to get the best of you, Reaper? Turn intangible. You need to return to the palace.”

The mockery was enough for Ezra to open his eyes. Determinedly, he followed the order despite knowing it would cause another spasm of fire to course through his veins. As his body turned incorporeal, he was pulled through the shadows once more. Only this time, it was not Chitragupta luring him and the voices of Naraka did not tempt him.

Ezra couldn’t recall what occurred after they arrived back in his palace quarters.

There was a lot of feverish pain. A difficulty breathing. A mind-numbing weakness he hadn’t experienced since he’d become a god. There was a scent of strong herbs. There were two voices occasionally murmuring back and forth, but otherwise, the silence was only punctured by angry thunder rattling the palace walls.

He woke up to the sound of popping firewood.

That sound alone was enough to rouse him completely.

He hadn’t lit a fire in his rooms since—

Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling of his sitting room. His head was placed near the fireplace, almost intentionally positioned. There was an odd cramping in his hands. Adjusting his fingers, he realized he still clutched the two halves of his broken sword as if they were his lifeline. Ezra blinked again, watching the orange shadows dance across the ceiling.

 _He'd_ been there. Agni. Ezra could all but feel his presence saturate the rooms as if he’d physically been there. To know the god had seen him in this weakened state, especially after so many months of standing by himself, was upsetting.

Ezra closed his eyes and withheld the sigh of dissatisfaction.

Releasing the two sword shards, Ezra used his palms to push himself into a sitting position.

Despite not catching sight of the Syphon for several weeks, it came as little surprise to see Syphon-Kartikeya sitting across from him, merely watching him with stormy grey eyes. Just over Kartikeya’s shoulder, Ezra observed Chitragupta perched on the divan. Judging from their tense postures, the two God Eaters did not seem especially friendly or close.

Ezra looked down, realizing his tunic was unbuttoned and a make-shift bandage was placed against the wound he sustained from god-Kartikeya. He peeled back the corner, the smell of sharp, brisk herbs hitting his senses.

“Your first taste of Macabre Poison. Consider yourself properly initiated as a godly warrior.”

Kartikeya’s voice was gruff and hoarse. Ezra noticed the Syphon’s attention was not focused on his wound, however, but rather his shoulder.

Belatedly, Ezra realized his tunic had slipped past his shoulder, displaying the inky serpent tattoo coiled possessively around his upper arm and resting near his collarbone. Under Kartikeya’s steely eyes, Ezra adjusted his tunic, covering the consort mark. If Kartikeya had tended his wound, he would have also seen the golden spear and Azeri ring hanging from his silver chain.

It would explain that sharp, probing gleam in his eyes.

“Macabre Poison?” Ezra slowly buttoned his tunic and pretended he were not under scrutiny. The shirt was caked in mud. His entire body was caked in mud. His face stiff with dry mud. Several pieces of his hair were crunchy and stringy with mud. Under the fingernails of his ungloved left hand, there was mud.

Mud. Everywhere.

“It is a poison designed to attack and slow the Essence’s natural healing properties. It allows for a higher chance of a lethal wound for deities.” Kartikeya did not lose his intensity as he watched every miniscule move Ezra made. “Being as you’re in the mortal realm, it can be especially dangerous. You’re already spending much of your Essence here. To have it depleted and weakened further—”

“Made me vulnerable.”

Kartikeya inclined his head. “Most warriors don’t bother poisoning their blades anymore.” He looked down at the satchel next to him. “It has been engrained on us at a young age to identify herbs for an antidote. Herbs that are also available in the mortal realm. Makes it pointless to use it against opponents… unless they are ignorant.”

Ezra nodded sharply, his face crafted from hard stone.

He should get used to that.

Not knowing phrases. Not knowing poisons. Remedies. Traditions.

 _Ignorance. Newborn. Fledgling. Naïve._ All words to describe him now.

“Well, thank—”

“No need,” Kartikeya interrupted hastily, not wanting Ezra’s gratitude. “It would not have been lethal. The wound was far too superficial. You would have experienced pain for a few hours before your Essence eventually worked through it.” He finally lowered his eyes from Ezra. “Unfortunately, your sword did not make it through the duel. It was a handsomely crafted Igni weapon. Do you mind?”

Ezra shook his head, watching as Kartikeya moved closer and picked up the fractured blade. His fingers roamed over the white-gold serpent hilt, tracing over the textured scales and the emerald gem eyes. His focus strayed on the mourning braids briefly, recognizing what they stood for, for his touch was brief and solemn before he moved on to inspect the blade.

Inky, dark hair veiled his masculine features as he tested its broken weight and its balance.

Over Kartikeya’s head, Ezra caught Chitragupta’s smug, knowing eyes.

Not caring to interpret that look, Ezra looked back at Kartikeya.

“They’ve certainly improved their blacksmithing in the time I have been—away.”

“The Igni people have always, and will always, be the most superior race when it comes to creating blades,” Ezra agreed readily, recalling his previous conversations with Kai about Igni swords. They used to argue frequently about this particular subject. He always enjoyed taunting the boy with the Igni’s superior blacksmithing, simply because Kai knew it all too well but refused to admit to it.

Upon remembering his fiercest comrade, Ezra’s mood sunk back down.

And stayed down.

Kartikeya’s strong mouth parted faintly in amusement. His fingers curled around the broken blade. “You fight well.” His eyes looked back up at Ezra. “You fight much like my father and my uncle. Varuna. It is unfortunate the battle was cut short. He may have been strong, but he lacked the necessary refinement.”

Agni’s son placed down the blade, offering it one last parting glance of admiration before refocusing exclusively on Ezra.

“You were raised mortal.”

Despite it not being a question, and despite it being quite blunt and unexpected, Ezra answered. “I was.”

“My father raised you. Like a son.” His eyes pierced through the fabric of Ezra’s tunic. “But not quite. Not exactly subtle in his claim, is he?”

Ezra sat up further, feeling the warm, nearly scalding heat from the fire at his back. “Not like a son. I would say he trained me to be the next Reaper.” He looked down at his mud-caked boots, understanding Kartikeya wanted—needed—answers. He just hadn’t thought it would be _now._ Now, without Agni at his side, explaining things. “You met my mother, of course.”

Kartikeya’s gaze was far too much like Agni’s.

He looked straight through Ezra, leaving the younger a bit unsteady.

Unquestionably, he possessed more of a commanding air than his godly counterpart.

It made sense. They were probably several hundred years apart in age. The god-Kartikeya was a fledgling, probably not a day over one-hundred-years-old with a mortal mentality of an older teen. Ezra had identified that much during his duel with the god. No matter how skilled Kartikeya may be, no matter how much pressure he may have received from Indra and Tvastr, he was still juvenile.

But this Kartikeya—

He held himself like Agni. Stared at Ezra like Agni. Possessed maturity and had experienced tragedies that had aged him further.

“Chitragupta explained much to me about Yama—your mother.” Kartikeya’s expression revealed nothing. “I am still recovering memories.”

Ezra wanted to ask if he recalled the circumstances of his death, but chose to stay away from such events that could trigger a setback. “It took Chitragupta some time to readjust to the situation as well.”

He glanced at the Syphon in question. There was a time Chit was a mere shadow, a horrifying apparition, eager for a taste of Ezra’s blood.

The God Eater simply blinked back at him, a sinful smile stretching across his mouth as if he looked fondly upon past times.

“It is endless agony in the realm of Naraka,” Kartikeya informed quietly but with a haunted edge. “The Syphons are fortunate enough to put themselves into a deep sleep. The daemons are forced to endure the pain.” His attention refocused on Ezra. “If you knew, if you understood the extent of the suffering, you wouldn’t allow anything to stand in your way of saving them.”

“Ezra knows of the situation in Naraka,” Chit responded for Ezra. “He is first focusing on the mortal dilemma here—”

“Let Agni defend his people. Let Varuna,” Kartikeya interrupted.

Ezra stood from the ground. “These are _my_ people, _my_ home,” he informed grimly. He moved across the sitting area and approached the alcohol cart. “Agni and Varuna are in no place to defend these mortals and I am not going to leave them for slaughter.”

He poured a generous amount of whiskey in the tumbler, the gold liquid sloshing inside the crystal glass. As he raised the glass for his first taste of whiskey since becoming a god, a hand curled around his wrist and forcibly placed the drink back on the cart. Ezra stared uncomprehendingly at the colorless hand around his wrist before looking incredulously at Kartikeya who loomed over him.

“Your Essence is still healing. It is best you do not make it work harder by ingesting any food or drink.”

Ezra moved the hand from his wrist. “Your advice is duly noted.”

He then proceeded to sip his drink, nearly sighing with bliss.

It was just as wonderful as he remembered.

“I’m afraid it takes a much firmer, more authoritative hand to get him to obey,” Chitragupta said smugly.

Either Kartikeya did not understand Chitragupta’s insinuating about Agni, or he chose to ignore it completely. “I understand the desire to defend your people,” the Syphon pressed. “You have personal ties here. You’ve only just become the Reaper, there is nothing tying you to Naraka or Elisium. Not yet. Despite this, they _are_ your people. They are your subordinates.”

“You mistake my duty here for indifference there,” Ezra replied sharply. “That is not the case.”

Never mind that he was not welcome here in the mortal realm. Never mind that he was hoping to escape to Naraka or Elisium on his own terms. Nevertheless, after today’s attack on the capital, Ezra feared it would not be that easy to leave Concordia. Kartikeya did not need to know about Ezra’s conflict here. The Syphon was far more interested in tearing down the barricades of Naraka and running rampage by retracing Yama’s steps. That was something Ezra did not plan to do.

It would be a gradual liberation.

“If you leave the mortal realm, there is a possibility that Kartikeya will stop the war. What is the point in continuing if you are not here?”

Ezra calmly turned his heel and walked to the fireplace. “And how do you propose getting past Indra’s lockdown without simpering at his feet?”

“I’ll take you to the entrance of Naraka.”

“Even if you could find a way through, entering at this level is not wise,” Chitragupta intervened. “Besides, who is to say that Indra is not watching closely? If Ezra ‘conveniently’ finds a way into Naraka, he’ll simply lock Ezra inside and destroy Concordia anyway.”

“You would know Indra’s intentions best, wouldn’t you, Chitragupta?”

Ezra turned back around, eyeing the two Syphons shrewdly over his glass of whiskey. Chitragupta turned in the divan to look at Kartikeya, who had moved forward to stare down the other entity. Ezra would not deny the pleasure he felt over their antagonistic and intimidating ambiances. There was an obvious air of soothing dark and cold.

He could bask in this for eternity.

Ironically, he would be.

“My intentions are to protect Ezra’s frame of mind,” Chit responded with an eerie calm. “We need a stable and emotionally secure Reaper. He understands his duty in Naraka, but his duty here is likewise important for the mortal race as well as his mental state.”

A surprising sentiment. Yesterday, Chitragupta cautioned against Ezra spending more time in the mortal realm. Then again, his reasoning was because it was taking a toll on Ezra’s health, not because Ezra shouldn’t protect the mortals. If there was one thing Ezra learned about Chit these past few months, it was the Syphon’s surprising sense of duty toward the mortal race.

“What concerns me is his mortal mentality,” Kartikeya countered. “It was unwise for him to be raised as a mortal. He will put his mortals above the sheer tragedy and devastation of Naraka. They are in _agony_ and he’s turning the other cheek _._ ”

“That is not true—”

“Isn’t it?” Kartikeya interrupted Chit quickly. “What about his decision to extract revenge by hunting down daemons and consuming them whole? As if they weren’t just as controlled and influenced as I was when Yama returned?”

Ezra looked down at his whiskey, unperturbed. 

“I would hunt down every single one of those daemons again if I had a chance.” His gaze cut through the fire-lit room and held Kartikeya in place. “The carnage they released? The sheer amusement and sadistic glee they experienced while killing mortals?” He clicked his tongue quietly and shook his head. “Oh, no. I may be ignorant to a great deal of things, but I can assure you, I will not have entities like that under my reign.” 

Ezra emptied the rest of the whiskey and placed it down on the table with a click of finality.

“I don’t care what kind of dark creatures and entities dwell in Naraka, I do not care how wicked, sinful, or cruel they are,” he continued, his tone frigid, his expression more so. “They will all follow my command and my rule.”

Chitragupta appeared delighted.

Kartikeya was only hard-pressed to continue the argument. “They were obligated to follow _Yama’s_ rule,” he said. “They did not know about you. You were still mortal. You could have gone about punishment in a different way.”

Ezra smiled thinly.

It was hardly a reassuring smile.

“I could have. I chose not to.”

He turned and looked at the fire, moving his hand and dousing it with a frigid burst of snow and cold. The flames extinguished quickly. He stared at the empty and unlit hearth, watching the slow, sluggish tendrils of smoke lift in the air. He understood Kartikeya’s insistence they should focus on Naraka. The Syphons and daemons only knew unimaginable pain.

But for all the observing Kartikeya did these past few months, he did not know Ezra.

Did not understand Ezra’s own sufferings and tragedies.

“It was the wrong decision,” Kartikeya said firmly. “The daemons have suffered greatly—”

“The daemons took much away from me,” Ezra interrupted unfeelingly. He kept his back turned on the Syphon. “Regardless of my actions with the daemons, I am staying here to defend Concordia.” Turning back to Kartikeya, he observed the grim, displeased features. “Though I appreciate your input, Kartikeya, I will not be swayed.”

The Syphon inclined his head, recognizing the lost argument. “Then I wish you the best of luck.”

It was clear he would disappear again, perhaps staying away for good until Ezra found his way into Naraka.

Ezra couldn’t let that happen until he spoke on behalf of Agni.

“Kartikeya.”

When the Syphon stilled unnaturally at his name being called, Ezra unattached the spear from his chain and tossed it his way. Kartikeya caught the small object reflexively, and if possible, became even stiffer. As if identifying its previous owner, the weapon glowed a brilliant gold and gradually increased in size. Ezra could never get it to enlarge and the memories no longer played when he touched it.

As beautiful as the weapon was, and as infuriating as Kartikeya’s obstinacy was, Ezra did not feel right keeping it.

He empathized with Agni’s son.

Agni’s bleeding heart who passionately defended causes he believed in. Who was not afraid to stand apart from the general mold to support an ostracized or unpopular cause. Ezra and Kartikeya were much alike, but unfortunately, they did not stand together on the matter of the daemons and the mortal realm.

“Your father—”

Here, Kartikeya closed down. The mention of Agni was evidently too much for him.

“Lives to this day with regret over what happened to you.” Ezra garnered Kartikeya’s reluctant attention. “These past one hundred years were spent mourning and grieving. When everyone else moved forward the day you were replaced, Agni shunned all. He has never stopped finding ways to reach you in Naraka.”

“Did he tell you that?”

Ignoring the echo of scorn, Ezra straightened to his full height. “He showed me.” He smirked with a remarkable amount of jadedness. “And despite you not appreciating the final product, my own existence was designed specifically for you.”

Kartikeya grimaced as he stared down at the spear in his curled fist.

For a long while, he did not speak, choosing instead to look to the spear for answers.

He eventually lifted his gaze. “Do not underestimate the God of War. He has several powers you do not yet understand.” He lifted the arm that held the spear, holding the weapon parallel toward Ezra. His dark brows furrowed together. “You did not take him seriously today. Such underestimation will destroy you when you meet him on a _true_ battlefield.”

With that, he and the spear disappeared.

“Unpleasant as always,” Chitragupta disparaged. “He always believes his way is the only way. Much like his father. Only, Agni doesn’t bother convincing others he’s right, he just ends up being right in the end.”

“I didn’t know you thought so highly of Agni.”

“I didn’t say he goes about it fairly.” Chit stood from the divan. “He’ll make sure his way turns out right, even if that means manipulating things to his favor. But at least he doesn’t bark and grate against the senses in his insistence to convince others.” The Syphon appeared repelled. “So _gruff_ and blunt. Lacks subtlety.”

Ezra merely watched Chitragupta with a quirked eyebrow. “How many aircrafts were you able to destroy?”

Chit deflated. “Most. Not all.” He watched Ezra closely. “We will figure out a way, Ezra.”

He wondered what Chitragupta meant.

Would they figure out a way to destroy the aircrafts before they destroyed the kingdoms? Would they figure out a way to stop the decay of the mortal realm? Would they somehow figure out a way into Naraka or Elisium on their own? Would they figure out a way to liberate the daemons and Syphons without causing a mass uprising?

“We will,” he responded with empty conviction before escaping into his sleeping chambers.

Hovering over his mortal body, he noted the flawless and unaffected face.

Feeling unusually tired and drained, he dropped back into his mortal prison and lay in bed. Kartikeya may have been right about the whiskey. He may have been right about other things, too.

Ezra turned on his side, staring at the empty side of his bed.

Slowly, his hand ventured across the bed, feeling the cool sheets beneath his own frigid hand. A consuming, hollow emptiness started in the pit of his stomach and spread like a stain to the rest of his body. Of all the things he could feel, of all the things he was entitled to feel, he simply had no energy remaining to feel anything at all.

*** * * ***

The dark figure roved over the grassy hill, unfazed as he walked into the strong, searching wind. Despite the taste of victory, his expression was constructed ominously. His hands fell loosely at his sides, the long, tapered fingers moving gently as if playing a silent, imaginary tune. Over his shoulder, in the far distance, warmly-glowing windows extinguished and turned dark. Fires across Elisium flickered and expelled under their master’s unspoken command while other fires ignited and began creating chaos.

“Agni,” Yamuna chided as she escaped the forest to meet him. “Naraka is stirring fiercely. What did you do?”

“I merely evened the playing field.” He turned and looked back at the palace. The fires would be the least of their worries assuming all went according to plan. “I am here for what we discussed earlier. It is time I go to the mortal realm.”

Her expression froze, her eyes curious as they searched their surroundings. “Where is Kai?”

Agni’s jaw tightened.

Understanding dawned on Yamuna. “Come along, then.” She turned and led him through the willow forest. “Again, I must caution you over the risks involved with this. It is unclear how long Indra will keep Elisium locked down. If you do not wake upon being grounded in the mortal realm, you could be slumbering inside this soul for the duration of his or her lifetime.”

“I will wake.”

She did not appreciate his confidence. “You will be asleep, wrapped inside a newborn mortal soul, and implanted in a mortal woman. I hardly believe you’ll have much control over the situation.”

“If Ezra is in the mortal realm, I do not imagine I will stay asleep long.”

His attention briefly dwelled over the events he’d recently viewed in the mortal realm. Both Kartikeyas were orbiting around Ezra. One was actively hostile and a marionette under Indra’s orders, the other hardly better in his support of Ezra. Such a fumbling, clumsy way to convince a new leader how to handle a situation. Agni had taught his son better than that.

And Ezra—

A remarkable little fledgling despite the circumstances, but in desperate need of some proper guidance and control from an older deity. 

His thoughts briefly deliberated over what he’d glimpsed at when he looked upon the newborn’s ethereal appearance. As difficult as it was to get a proper and clear look with the mud, what he did see only reinforced his assumptions. Such a transformation was not possible without another added element to Ezra’s lineage. A god— _or_ —goddess element.

Ironic, truly.

He’d taunted and mocked Calder Talise for his absolute powerlessness in defending his son against Agni. For his silly, yet oddly endearing attempt of threatening Agni to treat his son well. Now there was a chance, a very obvious possibility, that Agni had — or would have had — to answer to a much larger predator.

That unpredictable factor that was Ezra’s sire had Agni deep in thoughts these past several days. It changed a great deal of things. It shed light on several mysteries. The implications alarmed him. For the first time since he could remember, he was without answers. While he had his assumptions, they were just that. Conjectures. Moreover, with this knowledge came the realization that he’d been manipulated.

The extent of such manipulations remained to be seen, but if Agni was correct in his assumptions, they extended long past his own manipulations of Yamuna.

Manipulate the manipulator.

“Whatever you did in Naraka could impact Ezra, Agni,” Yamuna said as they came to a stop next to a basin. On top the standing water lay a glowing flower. “In addition to the mortal realm unrest, and Indra’s meddling, the possibility of Naraka falling down on him while he’s alone…”

“I will wake,” Agni repeated, this time, frostily. “Just get me to him.”

“Your arrogance may—”

“Be my undoing?”

“May be Ezra’s undoing.”

Agni’s attention honed abruptly. “Do not.” He stood closer to her, feeling a rage directed toward her sly ways and wondering what it meant for him. For Ezra. For their relationship. “Do not play that card with me. You may have succeeded once in fooling me, but you no longer have the advantage of clandestineness. Now that I know what you are, I see through the ploy.”

“There are much larger stakes involved than you believe,” Yamuna warned. “I may not merit your resentment.”

“You, Ezra, and I have much to discuss when we return.” If Agni were not relying on her to deliver him to the mortal realm, he would have pressed the issue. As it was, he simply turned his shoulder and approached the basin of fire across the pond. His rage quieted and lingered tautly beneath his skin. The only thing that kept his frustration at bay was the palpable anticipation of seeing Ezra again.

His body dissolved into the fire and waited for the mortal soul to come his way.

Once he entwined himself through the newborn soul, Agni allowed himself to sleep.

*** * * ***

Two things simultaneously roused Ezra from his deep, mind-numbing sleep.

The god-awful knocking at his doors.

And the fact that Agni had grounded in the mortal realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you don't follow me on Tumblr. So, if you're interested to see Ezra's new eye inspo (not yet disclosed in the story yet), you can go [here.](https://epic-solemnity.livejournal.com/16998.html) As well, a reader requested a Chitragupta moodboard! You can see his moodboard [here!](https://epic-solemnity.livejournal.com/17194.html) Yes, the elephant will be explained later ;) 
> 
> ♥


	5. Dead Eyes Revive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a huge thank you to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing the chapter! ♥ Any mistakes you see are entirely my own for fucking with things afterward.

**5: Dead Eyes Revive**

Extreme disorientation clung to his senses like a weighty fog. The scent of eggs, bacon, sausages, and fresh, tangy fruit fermented the room and intermixed with the pulsating energy of mortal souls. Ezra resisted the temptation to bury his fingers in his eyes, the sound of breaking and snapping sausage skin turning his stomach and worsening his migraine. They weren’t noisy eaters, on the contrary really—with the exception of Viktor—yet it was still grating against his senses.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Are you unwell?”

Ezra glanced at Brooke as she perched elegantly on the arm of his chair.

She easily read what he did not say. “I told you I was inviting your friends for breakfast.”

“That was before the explosion at the capital. Before Eurus made their first move.”

Upon his quiet gripe, Brooke’s small smile froze unnaturally. “Ezra,” she warned frostily, “everyone needs breakfast. The kingdom will think no less of you if you share it with friends.”

The silence in the room was only broken by utensils clanging against dishes. The trio of guests stood a distance away as they served themselves from the small breakfast bar set up near the sitting area. Never one for formalities, Ezra sat in the armchair, encouraging them to sit in the informal sitting area once they collected their breakfast.

Viktor ambled over first, snapping a sausage all the while. Brooke offered him a quiet look of disdain as he wiped sausage juice off of his chin and dropped a grape on the ornate rug. Viktor pretended not to notice and used the toe of his boot to nonchalantly roll it under the divan.

“Charming as ever, Sedna.”

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Glyndwr. Ever the depiction of charm.”

“Actually, it is ‘Talise’ now. I recall you were at the wedding,” She raised an eyebrow, “wearing some hideous shade of sky-blue.”

Viktor’s face turned red. “It was—my mother claimed it was a popular shade for unattached, single men at weddings.”

“Perhaps two decades ago.”

Her eyes turned hooded with amusement as he sat down in defeat.

Ezra leaned forward in the armchair, knowing Viktor preoccupied his attention on his food just to avoid their scrutiny. “Regardless of your fashion choices for formal attire, Viktor, black and gold suits you well.” He jadedly observed the royal guard uniform. “You should have made rank the first time around.”

Viktor’s expression appeared crestfallen.

Ezra felt his own mood, which wasn’t very high to begin with, sink further.

“If he’d made rank the first time around, he would have shared Cain’s and Kai’s fate,” Talia proclaimed neutrally. She sat down next to Viktor with an unreadable expression. “Even Aiden just got cleared from the infirmary a few weeks ago. Not making rank probably saved your life.” Her eyes briefly passed over Ezra before settling on Brooke. “Your Majesty. I appreciate the invitation this morning.”

“It is a pleasure to see you outside of guard duty, Talia.”

Viktor appeared put off over Brooke’s genuine and warm greeting. Ezra remained just as motionless over Talia’s slight. It was no secret Brooke was fond of Talia. From the way her eyes lit up whenever the other woman was mentioned to the affectionate, proud smile, Ezra realized there was more to it than gender pride. His attention turned to survey Brooke.

Upon his scrutiny, she smiled mysteriously.

It would explain why Brooke reassigned Talia to her personal security.

As much as Ezra wanted to be interested in the turnout, he found himself unable to summon the necessary energy. Back in the Eurus Empire, as he fought against god-Kartikeya, he’d almost felt _normal._

Such a sensation had abruptly slipped form his fingers before Ezra had a chance to savor it.

He turned back as Aiden moved forward and his eyes honed sharply. The other man boldly met eyes with Ezra as he lowered himself to a separate chair directly across from him. The mortal’s dim aura evoked Ezra’s attention, just as it had earlier when the trio had arrived. While it was not as obvious as a daemonic possession, slight traces of black, smoke-like tendrils extended from Aiden’s dim aura. 

The ice-like and soothing presence was also a dead giveaway.

Syphon-Kartikeya was possessing Aiden.

Across the room, Chitragupta trilled quietly in his raven form, earning a distrustful ogle from Viktor.

“Aiden Basia,” Brooke called Kartikeya’s attention away from Ezra, “thank you for joining us.”

Aiden bowed his head under Ezra’s steely gaze. “My pleasure.”

When Ezra was mostly mortal, encountering Chit had genuinely frightened him. Yet, that had been when Chitragupta was in his true form. When he was a raven, he did not exude as much disquiet. Even so, in Aiden’s skin, Kartikeya carried the young Igni man differently. There was a palpable air of confidence and far more strength than Aiden had ever harbored. 

Yet, Talia and Viktor both seemed clueless to their friend’s change of demeanor, sitting apart from even each other.

Three months was a long time.

Evidently, they were not as closely bound as they once were.

Was he to blame for that as well?

Kai would be disappointed in him, Ezra realized. Cain even more so.

“I’m a bit late,” Kartikeya started, “but I want to congratulate you both on the conception of the royal heir.” He looked pointedly at Ezra. “Rumors have it that it’s a son. Is that right?”

The God of War clearly thought he’d discovered the reason Ezra wanted to remain in the mortal realm. Little did the god know that Ezra had already told him the reason last night. He just wanted to protect his mortals. It had nothing to do with his unborn son.

Ezra stared right back.

Talia and Viktor looked up in surprise. “How do the Healers know the gender already?”

Brooke smiled and all but morphed into someone else entirely. Her glow was evident as she touched her stomach. Her opposite hand remained on Ezra’s shoulder as if to include him in her careful exploration of the growing bump. She knew Ezra’s thoughts on the matter. His entire person was tense under her hand, wanting to put as much distance between the both of them as possible.

His presence was toxic.

“It’s a newly discovered procedure. The water Elemental can extract a mirrored, water image of the baby. It is not always guaranteed. It depends on the stage of the pregnancy as well as the child’s positioning. As I am well into my fourth month, they were very certain it was a boy.”

“Have you thought of names yet?” Talia asked.

Ezra looked over, catching Brooke’s eyes and watching as her smile dimmed into a more empathetic show of affection. “We’ve thought of a few,” he responded carefully. “Zale will be the middle name, of course. We were thinking of an Igni-inspired name. We had also… briefly considered naming him Kai or Keegan.” Here the room turned tense.

“Igni-inspired name,” Brooke continued easily, “or something new entirely. Perhaps not Igni or Unda. Ezra’s name is very neutral. I believe it would be fitting to follow that tradition for a biracial monarch, especially when we still have so much conforming to do with the two cultures.”

He told Brooke to pick the name. In turn, she told him she would not settle on a name until she earned his true—not feigned—approval. She always wanted to involve him with these things for the child. She’d also started arranging the nursery and designing color schemes. Ezra hadn’t cared which shade of navy-blue should decorate the nursery, but he did care about one thing.

It was vital she picked a new queen’s wing and nursery. Ezra ordered the palace to reconstruct Ember’s old suites and nursery into a study or library. He would not have Brooke and the child dwell in the echoes of loss and devastation.

At least five more months until she gave birth.

Ezra was dreading every second of it for a collection of reasons.

“Can’t go wrong with Viktor!” Viktor proclaimed, earning the room’s exasperation.

“Where is Councilman Sachiel?” Ezra inquired. “I had anticipated he’d be the first inside the rooms.”

Brooke’s expression pinched. In the presence of company, she would not display her true sentiments for Sachiel. “He said he preferred a more intimate, private appointment with you. He wished to convey his appreciation that you are now accepting appointments and will be seeing you shortly.” She slowly rose from Ezra’s chair, spurring Talia and Kartikeya to stand with hasty decorum.

Viktor clumsily followed after, nearly losing his eggs on the carpet.

Brooke was the picture-perfect monarch as she gathered her long, flowing gown in one hand and moved across the rooms with an elegant and graceful stride. Her long neck and delicate chin lifted high in both pride and confidence. Ezra watched her, feeling his black mood spasm with warm affection. She caught his eyes and smiled knowingly.

“I have an appointment with Robert McKinley regarding the expansion of women’s curricula at the academies across the capital.” She winked at him behind their backs. “Enjoy your time together.” She knew he would not. “I will meet you later today for the council meeting.”

He had nearly forgotten he had rescheduled their council meeting.

“Don’t be afraid to unsheathe your claws,” Ezra murmured to her. “I’ve heard McKinley is an ostentatious asshole.”

“Aren’t all nobles, My King?”

With that, Brooke took her leave, leaving behind flabbergasted guests and a concerned Ezra. He had planned on attending the meeting with Brooke. Perhaps she had planned this breakfast in order to keep him away and stand on her own. He had confidence in her abilities, he just felt protective of her interests and knew male nobles did not see the benefit of enriching a female’s importance in society.

“She’s gorgeous,” Viktor gushed as soon as she left. He sat back down on the divan with a starstruck expression. “You’re so lucky, Micah.”

Talia offered him an exasperated look before addressing Ezra. “I should take my leave. Her Majesty gave me the morning off; however, it would only feel right to trail her for this—”

“Sit down, Talia,” Ezra instructed. “Please.”

He calmly stirred his tea as she reluctantly sat back down.

“Are you not eating?” Kartikeya inquired harmlessly as he popped a piece of melon into his mouth.

Ezra did not spare the Syphon a glance. He would eventually find out the reason Kartikeya possessed Aiden. He had his assumptions it was about last night’s conversation and the Syphon’s frenzied insistence they leap headlong into Naraka. _Right_. _Now_. He would have thought Kartikeya would keep a distance, but it seemed as if Agni’s son believed constant presence would change Ezra’s mind.

Ezra hated that it did.

It weighed on him even more. The consequences of staying in the mortal realm obviously grim.

But… Concordia…

“I’m not very hungry this morning.”

Even if he could eat, Ezra believed he’d have little appetite. What happened yesterday had soured his mood.

Syphon-Kartikeya had been partly correct in proclaiming Ezra had underestimated the God of War. God-Kartikeya was skilled and he was formidable, but even Ezra had detected the young mind frame. The god may have been decades older than Ezra, but he was slower to mature. Being raised a deity—as Agni proclaimed—did not encourage fast maturity quite like a mortal upbringing.

Ezra did not doubt that Kart would see yesterday as a defeat.

He would double his efforts to appease Indra and Tvastr.

And Ezra… he could barely even stay tangible long enough to cause much damage. He could hardly harness his Cold. He needed more practice combating in the hostile mortal realm, that much was evident.

Moreover, there was also _Agni._

Ezra’s hand faltered and nearly tipped over his tea. He could feel the God of Fire nearby. He _knew_ Agni was grounded. Their bond was open and thrumming, yet it was oddly… silent. Immobile. As if Agni were not entirely present.

Ezra just wanted Agni.

The longing to sink his nails into the god. To be held with strong, selfish greed. To give up control. To inhale the scent of his counterpart—

“I am going to be honest,” Talia started, discarding her dish on the low table before her. She sat back against the divan and looked at Ezra. “I hadn’t expected to be called on after so long, Ezra.” She looked at Viktor, who remained perched at the end of the divan as he picked at his eggs. And then to Aiden, who preferred to watch the proceedings with a speculative stare. “Where were you three—almost four—months ago?”

As Ezra endured her harsh inquiry, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

It was not Aiden, Viktor, and Talia pressing Brooke about visitation. It was Brooke recognizing Ezra’s depression for what it was and hoping his friends could somehow ease him back into normalcy. Little did Brooke know that they had learned to move forward and adapt without him.

They had relied on themselves to move on from their losses.

Ezra still remained behind, drowning in the suffocating darkness of loss and regrets.

“Talia,” Viktor started quietly, “that’s unfair.”

“It’s truly not,” Talia argued and her voice broke near the end. “If Kai were here…” she inhaled deep. “I remember when Keegan died. How you alienated yourself from the rest of us, Ezra. But Kai forced his way into your trajectory. He traveled with you to the outskirt regions during your mourning and pulled you from your spiraling downslide of grief. You do not handle grief well.”

Ezra continued stirring as her words washed over him.

“We tried to be there when Kai was not,” Talia continued. “We made effort after effort in those early days, but you continued to deny us visitation. You continued to hole yourself away. We were grieving, too. We could have moved on. Together. As a team.”

“Or what was left of the team,” Viktor said grimly. He, too, set down his breakfast and fished through his pockets.

“It felt as if you died that night too, Ezra,” Talia whispered. “It was almost as if we had to mourn you as well.”

Ezra had to laugh at the irony in that statement.

“I _did_ die that night,” he proclaimed dryly, just because the urge was too strong to stay silent. They, of course, would not understand the implications of such a declaration. Instead, Viktor hesitantly dropped a few pieces of thread on the table before them. Ezra lost his dark mirth as soon as he saw what they were.

Braids.

Mourning braids.

“Red for Cain,” Viktor said softly. “He was always the heart of the team. Aiden said he fought valiantly at his side the night of the palace attack and defended him from the enemies. If it hadn’t been for Cain, Aiden wouldn’t be here today.” He then touched the gold braid. “Gold for Kai.” Viktor’s expression wavered. “You and he were the… adhesive holding the team together.”

Ezra set aside his tea and moved forward to gaze down at the three braids.

His eyes lingered across the red first, admiring the warmth it emitted. It was a suitable color representing Cain and his gentle-nature toward his team and his fierceness in battle. Gold, he believed, was suitable for Kai. Only the best for an Edlen. He smiled grimly as he touched them one by one, his fingers then lingering across the table to the last multi-colored braid.

It was of bright orange, red, and blue.

Somehow, he knew exactly who that braid represented.

“And who is this?” he asked hoarsely.

It was Talia who responded, her voice soft. “Cyra.”

“Cyra,” Ezra repeated thickly. He looked at Viktor’s sword holster, seeing all five braids strung around his blade. And then to Talia’s and Aiden’s hilt. They were all there. He was the last to honor them.

The last to acknowledge their imprints.

His exhalation was shaky as he picked up all three braided threads.

As he held them preciously in his palms, his iron-clad control slipped. A strangled noise escaped his mouth and he hurriedly stood. He mumbled a semblance of a thanks before escaping from the rooms and into his sleeping chambers. He closed the door behind him, locked it, and then proceeded into his bathing rooms, locking those too.

Slumping against the vanity, he held the cold porcelain between his hands and braced himself for the imminent pain.

Visions of Cyra sprang from their locked compartment.

And without the necessary protection in place, Ember—

Ember was there and he endured her warm, affectionate presence as if it burned him. 

His stomach—his real stomach—clenched hotly with thick nausea and he gagged over the sink as he remembered consuming her completely. 

When he had consumed Ember’s soul, he recalled feeling her regrets and sorrows, he recalled her mind-numbing fear and confusion over what she had become. Her soul, burdened by memories long forgotten, long twisted under Yama’s influence, had scorched their imprints into his mind. What had stood out the most—what Ezra buried as quickly as possible—was that strong sensation Ember had reminisced about at the very end.

The feel of her hand gently cupping and guiding his smaller one through a throng of adoring spectators. Pride. She’d felt unparalleled pride as she showed off her son, the future ruler of a new, prosperous kingdom.

He would be great one day, she had thought with all her might.

He would be Concordia’s saving grace.

What he remembered the most was the sheer love and adoration she had harbored for the small creature that was her son. What he continued and constantly remembered was her awe of the Concordia capital and her sharp eye for the potential Concordia had to offer as it merged two great cultures together. It was her goal to make Concordia its best version that had truly impacted Ezra.

He sobbed dryly over the porcelain sink, realizing it was no longer practical for him to carry on his mother’s legacy and dream.

If he stayed, he’d only destroy it.

The very last thing remaining of his mother.

*** * * ***

The moans and the cries were deafening.

Ezra walked amongst the mess that was the capital, gazing at the destruction with a hard, jaded eye. It was always one thing to hear about the numbers, the statistics, another to witness it with his own eyes. They were still digging through the rubble. Those few mortals who’d been fortunate enough to have made it through the night trapped under such heavy rock and debris were carried out on stretchers.

The Eurus Empire had done quite a number on Concordia with one simple airstrike.

He felt out of place standing on the dusty and gravely sidewalks in his pristine and immaculate attire. Around him, the councilmembers stuck out just as visibly with a hoard of royal guards encircling them loosely.

They were to tour the capital damage for their meeting.

So far, the casualties were just under a dozen, but there were several injured parties. Ezra hesitated attending, simply because of his reputation around the sick and ill, but had no reasonable explanation to get himself out of it. Pavilions were erected near the area, housing several wounded before transporting them to infirmaries. Other tents were in operation, having been in operation for several months now since Agni’s destruction, handing out soup and supplies to the workers or to misplaced citizens.

“Did your breakfast go well?” Brooke asked as they walked together behind the councilmembers.

Several residents, despite the bustle of activity, stopped in their duties and simply stared at the pair of monarchs. They hurriedly bowed or curtseyed and Ezra offered a few nods of acknowledgement. Despite many months of this propriety, he still felt awkward. Brooke, however, merely breezed past with a gentle smile as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Breakfast went tremendously,” he replied acerbically. “And your meeting with McKinley—”

“Went just fine, Ezra.” Brooke hooked their arms together and patted his bicep. “I know you worry about me, but I have been exposed to politics since a young child. It’s difficult imagining doing this without you, but I must prepare myself for the day you will not be at my side.”

Ezra stared straight ahead, wondering why her words felt like a physical blow to the stomach.

She continued, “The councilmen and women have been extremely helpful. I find Councilwoman Azeri-Hrag to be a pleasant alternative voice. Cordelia, as always, is there to guide me—”

“Lots of suitable counselors.” Ezra watched as the councilmembers commented to one another about the destruction. “You must realize, despite their pleasantries, they are entirely selfish when it comes to expanding assistance and consideration to the outskirt regions. With this war, I haven’t been able to focus as often on the outskirts as I’d wanted to.”

Brooke remained quiet as they crossed the street to avoid a wagon full of collected debris.

When she spoke, she did so with a smooth and calm tenor. “They have come a long way since the palace attack. Even before then, when you took your position as the royal heir, they’ve readapted their conduct. The Edlens, especially, have shifted their approach since Kai’s death.”

Ezra shook his head as he looked at Muriel and Seaton.

“No.”

She chuckled. “Ezra,” she called in a teasing, amused tone, “I won’t press the topic of Muriel and Seaton Edlen, but you seem to need assurance.”

“I don’t need assurances, Brooke,” Ezra interrupted evenly. “I know you do a remarkable job.”

“Regardless of whether you need it or not, I would like to emphasize my two promises to you.” Her hand tightened on his arm, undoubtedly feeling the cold beneath his jacket. “One of those promises is that I will work endlessly to fix the outskirt regions and mend the racial gap between the Unda and Igni people.”

He knew Brooke would uphold that promise.

It was partly why he chose her as his consort.

That and her desire to ordain women’s rights.

“And the second promise?”

She looked up at him as they slowed to a casual stroll. “I—”

“Your Majesties,” Irving Dover called their attention and they became the focus of the councilmembers. “We were just discussing the cleanup efforts across the capital with Sergeant Hall.” Said solider stood with his hands clasped formally behind his back. “It seems all rubble has been sorted through and all survivors extracted. Sergeant?”

The young Igni man nodded sharply, his eyes directed somewhere between Ezra and Brooke. “Your Majesties. Depending on the extent of their injuries, the sick and injured are being tended to before being transferred to infirmaries. Food and medical supplies have been copious. Waiting on orders to begin rebuilding the foundations of the impacted buildings.”

Ezra looked around his surroundings.

He caught a pair of impossibly wide eyes from across the way. In the medical tent, a man sat slumped against a metal bedframe with bloody bandages wrapped around his head. He stared at Ezra in awe, his eyes bulging so much that Ezra was sure they would pop from their sockets. The man’s mouth opened slowly, a silent exclamation of either extreme awe or incredulity.

His frail body then sunk backwards. The eyes remained open, but the silvery soul rushed from his body and into the ground below.

As Ezra turned away, disturbed, he caught the knowing gaze of Josiah.

He hadn’t realized Josiah had intended to make an appearance today. But there he stood, bathed, dressed, and meeting eyes with Ezra with a suspicious amount of poise. At first, Ezra believed Agni had repossessed Josiah, but the man’s aura was purely silver.

“Your Majesty?”

Ezra refocused abruptly on the sergeant.

“Hold reconstruction.” He ran another critical eye across their surroundings. “We are fortunate enough that the damage impacted the nonessential shopping district. Until we know how the war will progress with the Eurus Empire, I caution against wasting resources at this point of time.” He nodded to the sergeant. “Continue cleanup. Good work.”

The sergeant saluted before disappearing from the vicinity.

“Is it wise to allude to the possibility of more airstrikes from the Eurus Empire?”

With Councilmen Devereux and Oriel overseeing the recovery of the residents in Region 20, the mantle of questioning everything Ezra said fell on Muriel Edlen. Fortunately, he was often the only councilman willing to play devil’s advocate. Glyndwr decided to remain tightlipped the day Brooke and Ezra announced their engagement, and Seaton Edlen was far more mellow since Kai’s passing.

“It is not alluding to a possibility but rather accepting the consequences of war, Councilman Edlen.” Ezra moved from Brooke’s side and stood around the table that would serve as their meeting post. “The capital has gone through several reconstruction phases in the past year. I will not rebuild in the midst of war.”

“Instead, let us consider reallocating resources into temporary housing,” Brooke offered. “If the Eurus Empire continues striking from above, we must consider the consequences of having many citizens misplaced from their homes due to destroyed infrastructure.”

“As well,” Josiah intervened smoothly, “we will need to deliberate possible shelters when they come again. Not as temporary housing, but rather for protection. My barracks are no longer used to house the royal guards. It is a sound and sturdy underground structure. Those in the proximity should seek shelter inside immediately as soon as a warcraft is in the area.”

The other councilmembers momentarily faltered as the Igni Lord made his presence known at the table. Josiah paid them no heed as he positioned himself next to Ezra, giving off his typical air of a proud, tenacious monarch. His sheathed sword was at his waist, no longer positioned to his right, but rather to his left.

There was no attempt from Josiah to hide his amputated arm he’d received from Ember-Yama’s ice attack. The sleeve of his jacket was loose enough for others to observe.

Ezra looked at him from the corner of his eye, both curious and suspicious of the turnaround.

Next to a quietly observing Ladon, Irving Dover nodded in favor of Josiah’s suggestion. “From this point forward, there must be a rotation of guards on the lookout,” he said. “Sound the palace alarm when warcrafts are approaching. It may give us a few minutes of preparation.”

Cletus, the Royal Scribe, perched at the table to record the proceedings of the meeting. He simultaneously had to clutch at the fluttering parchments and scramble to record the suggestions implemented between the group. A gentle breeze managed to upend a piece of loose parchment and push it just out of Cletus’ desperate reach.

Ezra watched as it fluttered off the table and landed near his boot. Just as he stooped to pick it up, it danced from his reach.

The end of a cane stabbed the mischievous paper and halted it in its tracks.

In mid crouch, Ezra looked up and met eyes with Sachiel.

“Parchments can be tricky adversaries.”

The cane Sachiel relied on the past few months appeared far more of an accessory now than it had been initially. Ezra had observed the way the blond-haired aristocrat leaned on it as he recovered from his leg wound. Overtime, the amount of weight he placed on it had all but disappeared. He now seemed to enjoy flashing the handsomely-crafted silver cane in public merely for the hell of it.

Ezra smirked underneath Sachiel’s sharp, probing eyes.

Gathering the piece of parchment, he discarded it next to Cletus who seemed dismayed over the dirt stains.

“The underground barracks are centralized for many citizens, but it will not be enough for everyone.” Cordelia smiled gently at Cletus after he nodded for them to resume. “We must create more shelters.”

“If I recall, delegators from the Terra Kingdom are arriving at the capital tomorrow,” Josiah said. “It may be prudent to ask for their assistance on ideas for shelters. I’m afraid the Igni of today are not quite as apt as the Terra Kingdom in terms of constructing underground structures.”

Around him, ideas—actual, logical ideas—were passed between the councilmembers. Ezra did not have to intervene often, if at all. He stood there silently with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes glazed over. He was both proud and unsettled with the change.

Brooke was right.

The councilmembers had improved their approach. 

Why hadn’t he noticed before? Had grief and denial buried him so far down? Had he been blind in his conviction that these people could not handle leading in his stead? So much so that he’d conjectured flaws that were not there?

“You trained your dogs very well,” Sachiel murmured knowingly next to Ezra. “Calder would be brimming with pride. He will awake to an entirely new Royal Council.”

“Is my expression that obvious, Councilman?”

Another gust of wind came by, upsetting the papers once more. Muriel, standing the closest to Cletus, merely turned his cheek the other way, feigning attention on something in the distance that did not exist. Ladon sighed softly and took pity on the scribe. He sat next to Cletus and sorted the papers before holding them down with a solid palm. 

“Your expression…as pretty as it is…” Sachiel started quietly, “hasn’t changed all that much since the devastating events at the palace.” The tall noble slid even closer to Ezra, his eyes dangerously observant. “You have dead eyes, Ezra. They once sparked with rebellious determination.”

_Dead eyes._

Ezra remained staring ahead. “That is what heavy losses can do to you.”

Sachiel was not deterred. “I think not. The wayward prince I knew would only see it as reason to prevail.” Sachiel nodded at Cordelia. “Cordelia lost much, yet her eyes are poignant with grief and resilience to move forward. Ladon lost his one and only source of familial comfort, yet he also has the eyes of a reluctant solider ready to tackle the world alone.”

“Grief affects all differently.”

“I see no grief. No misery. Those eyes are glassy. It unnerves me, yet intrigues me at the same time. Just what happened that night?”

Ezra thought back to that morning’s breakfast when he told Talia he had died. While darkly humorous at the time, he realized how accurate it was. Not in the literal sense, but a part of him had truly died that night.

Instead of waiting for it to return like the rest of his soul, perhaps it was time to learn to live without it.

Struck with this realization, he barely reacted in time to Irving’s address.

“Your Majesty, are we still scheduled to be at the military base?”

The noble observed the face of his pocket watch and Ezra realized he’d completely forgotten about the appointment with Sloan. He was starting to forget many things as of late. These meetings were scheduled one right after the other. It was no wonder Calder had always been so busy.

“If you do not mind, Councilman Dover, I would like to accompany my nephew for this appointment.”

Irving looked bewilderedly at Josiah, undoubtedly wondering where this man had been the past three months. Calder’s right-hand man then looked to Ezra, clearly waiting for his decision in the matter. Bringing Josiah was not ideal considering the man’s frame of mind, yet, with one searching gaze at his uncle, Ezra realized they had to eventually take a leap of faith.

He nodded once.

Ezra bade his farewells and turned, nearly running headlong into Aiden-Kartikeya.

“Are you—” Ezra cut himself off and hurried from the council. The two crossed the cobblestone street quickly, dodging behind carts of debris and putting further distance between possible eavesdroppers. “If you are going to dress yourself as a royal guard, please act the part.” He paused, suddenly curious. “Will there be any harm to Aiden by possessing him?”

He wondered what would happen if _he_ possessed someone other than a corpse.

“There is no harm. I will not stay long. He has consented to my possession with the temptation of growing as a warrior.” Kartikeya walked alongside him, already a breach of propriety. “I would also like to accompany you to the military base.”

Ezra withheld the sigh of exasperation.

“No.”

The Syphon considered something— _someone_ —over Ezra’s shoulder. The younger did not have to look to know Kartikeya was considering Josiah, who lagged behind at a more reasonable pace. “Do not,” Ezra warned icily. “Your father used and abused him for nearly twenty years. I will not have you reversing his recovery. Do you understand?”

Kartikeya turned his attention back to Ezra. “I know the God of War well. If you insist on stopping this mortal war first, I will—”

“Are you certain you know him well?” Ezra turned his heel and advanced on Aiden. With Kartikeya in Aiden’s body, Ezra finally had the opportunity to loom over Agni’s son. “You two may share the same name and face, but you certainly did not share the same upbringing.”

Entirely unfazed with Ezra’s act of dominance, if not a bit amused, Aiden narrowed his eyes with interest. “In which way?”

Ezra realized Kartikeya was ignorant about what happened after his rebirth into a Syphon. Last night had been too brief to clarify. “I told you Agni did not accept your replacement, did I not?” Ezra pressed closer. “He was asleep for over one hundred years after discovering your body. He did not raise this Kartikeya. He had no part.”

There was a plethora of emotions that crossed Aiden’s face.

Ezra was in no position to delve into any of them, for Josiah was upon them.

“Am I interrupting?”

“No.”

As if his ears had prickled and perked at the mention of ‘Agni’, Josiah offered Aiden a narrow look. “The carriage is just around the corner. Unless you prefer to walk?”

Ezra happened to glance over Josiah’s shoulder, spying the crowd of royal guards dispersed across the streets. Several were near the council tables guarding Brooke and the councilmembers, while several more trailed Josiah and Ezra at a distance. His attention then fell on a lone figure standing off to the side, near the councilmembers.

The Igni guard caught his eyes and Ezra was instantly overwhelmed by the resonating grief he saw in that expression, but also the willpower. Mortals had such short lifespans that were often filled with a copious amount of sorrow. Yet, somehow, they managed to continue pushing forward. Some even became stronger in spite of the crushing weight of grief.

Uriel Mishaal had lost his twin in the palace attack.

Nevertheless, he remained standing tall without his other half, undoubtedly tormented by memories and pain each and every day he dressed himself in his royal guard uniform.

 _“You’re not the only one who lost things that night. You’re not the only one who made sacrifices,”_ he had said to Josiah.

It was time, perhaps, to take his own advice.

“Walking is fine,” Ezra said breathlessly as he felt a crushing weight on his chest.

Josiah offered him a considering stare before they began the trek to the military base. The royal guards assigned Josiah’s protection followed like ducklings several paces behind. Fortunately, the military base was not far from their current location and the weather was decent enough for a walk. They soon left behind the damaged shopping district and crossed into the territory of Concordia Military Academy.

Seeing it again carried an unsurprising amount of sentimentality.

Being Micah Egan from the outskirts seemed to be a simpler, more appealing time of his life. Yet, he could not deny the leaps and bounds he’d traveled to become who he was today. He’d already accomplished so much as Ezra Talise, the royal heir and temporary King of Concordia. He’d met too many important people to wish he had never stepped foot inside the palace.

“I spoke with him.”

Ezra refocused sharply on Josiah’s side profile. His thoughts immediately fell to one person. “Agni?”

Josiah nodded once with his attention focused ahead.

“Ah.” Ezra turned away and smiled bitterly. Of course. He experienced a peculiar spike of irritation and resentment. “He was enough to rouse you from your haze? Did he give you more promises?”

“He gave me a duty.”

The two walked together in silence for quite some time. Ezra, reeling that Agni had reached out to Josiah, and Josiah, evidently struggling with the right words to say.

“He reminded me…” Josiah continued before trailing off contemplatively, “that I have a young nephew who is in need of my support and guidance. A young nephew who thinks so highly of this mortal kingdom and is afraid to lose it.”

Reassurances.

Promises.

Support.

Ezra tried not linking the two together, but he could not deny that Brooke and Josiah had incredibly suspicious timing.

Agni had reached out to Josiah somehow. Ezra could believe that. But had Varuna truly reached out to Brooke? How about Sachiel? Had Ezra’s conversation with the Water and Fire God motivated them enough to reach out to their prospective prophets and talk to Ezra through them?

“I would have hoped you already knew how much I loved this kingdom without needing _Agni_ to tell you as much,” Ezra seethed.

“Seeing past my own self-pity and losses proved difficult,” Josiah confessed. “It still is. I hated and envied you. Nevertheless, I—” Josiah cut himself off with a minimal shake of his head. “Every night since Agni’s departure, I started a fire in hopes of connection. Eventually, he reached out. Last night. And can you imagine what his first topic of choice was?”

Ezra’s lips twitched. “Not to sound egotistical—”

“You…” Josiah trailed off with a maddened tone. “Our conversation was not about reassuring me, but rather how I can reassure _you._ ”

Ezra scoffed. “I have been reassured that—without Calder, with Ladon and Brooke too inexperienced, and with you in the condition you’re in—Concordia will not manage well without my presence.”

“You need to leave the mortal realm, Ezra. You are destroying it.”

Ready to deliver a sharp retort, Ezra stopped himself, reigned his temper, and inhaled deeply. He turned back forward, feeling the heavy gaze of Josiah focused on his profile. “I know.”

If he were surprised by Ezra’ defeated confession, Josiah did not let it show. “You forget that I love my people more than anything. I have also grown to… tolerate the Unda race. You have seen the progression of the Royal Council. You know of our fierce military. You have a son on the way, raised by a very willful and empathetic mother. I have no intentions of separating this kingdom. Calder does not. Brooke does not.”

Josiah stopped and reluctantly drew Ezra to do the same.

“What I am trying to convey, Ezra, is that you leave Concordia in good hands.”

“There is just so much I had wanted to accomplish,” Ezra found himself confessing, sounding lost, but knowing it was inevitable.

“I assure you those are all things I am just as passionate about.” Josiah observed Ezra closely. “Agni did not accomplish much for the Igni people because he intended to separate them eventually and because he was waiting for you to claim your position as their representative. Now… it’s my turn. You must pass the duties on to a successor.”

Ezra looked around their surroundings. There were not many residents walking the sidewalks in this area, but plenty of carriages rolling past. The royal guards remained a distance behind, appearing out of place.

“Trusting you—”

“I imagine you’ll be observing from wherever it is you’ll go,” Josiah interrupted. “If you do not approve, I will certainly hear about it, won’t I?” His pause was heavy and an intangible sense of pessimism suspended in the air. “Calder, too,” he started again, his tone pinched. “Without your presence here, he will finally wake up and most likely be under your strict supervision.”

He said it with such detachment.

Ezra almost missed the intimation.

His face nearly crumbled and the heartache started anew. “Varuna isn’t holding him in his coma. I am.”

Josiah did not say anything further, yet his expression of careful sympathy was enough to tell Ezra what he’d feared.

His presence truly was impairing the mortal realm and it was time to leave.

No more hiding behind delusions and justifications.

It was time to fight.

*** * * ***

After bathing in his god form to wash away the mud from last night, and carefully selecting clothes from his wardrobe, Ezra felt like an entirely new person as he walked up the steep hill. It was scorched and burned raw from Agni’s fires. There was no regrowth. Nothing but black and ashes. His boots crunched hollow and crisp underbrush as he neared the top of the hill.

Perhaps it was his presence that prevented new buds from sprouting from the decaying grounds.

Above, two ravens circled, their impressive and daunting wingspans casting twirling shadows below.

Ezra cleared the incline and stood on top the small overlook.

From his position, he could see the palace and the charred, dead trees extending as far as the eye could see. Even the lakes didn’t seem as blue as he remembered, but rather a murky green. The clouds were heavy, overcast as they had been since his coronation. There was even a slight, foul smell in the breeze. Something perhaps not detected by mortals, but detected by a god who had finally stopped to pay attention.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled the scent of death and decay.

His minds played tricks on him and perceived the high-pitched screams of the earth, the creatures who could not speak, and even the mortals who could not possibly recover with his presence dwelling in the living realm. He was too much of a temptation to succumb to the afterlife.

Ezra knew if he stayed here longer, things would progress further.

His eyes reopened and sparkled with determination.

He rolled his head and neck back, staring at the hazy, cloudy skies.

“Indra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No... 
> 
> Ezra is not bending.


	6. Battle of the Tenacious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **As a reminder:** Agni grounded in the mortal realm a bit earlier that morning (this chapter’s morning). That’s a little more than an hour in Elisium. Indra may not be aware of everything Agni has done just yet.
> 
> Also, a huge, HUGE thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for all her work in editing the chapter. ♥ ♥

**6:** **Battle of the Tenacious**

**_Several Godly Years Earlier_ **

Cradling the warm body of the wolf pup, Yamuna gently laid it on the flat stone.

Her hands trembled just slightly as they trailed across its swollen belly.

There was no mistake.

Traces of Rudra saturated the fledgling. One slipup could cost the newborn its life, and the consequences would be grim. The silver blade held in her hand caught the reflection of the glowing pools across her realm. Momentarily shell-shocked, she placed the dagger against the wolf pup’s belly, pausing briefly, inhaling deep, before cutting open.

*** * * ***

**_Present Day_ **

He hadn’t expected a response right away.

Indra would make him say his name again and again.

Ezra inhaled deeply and closed his eyes with an expression of pleasant tranquility. The wind was dead here just like everything else. Behind him, the powerful wings of Chitragupta and Kartikeya beat against the air as they perched themselves on dead trees.

Shifting and repositioning his stance, he opened his eyes just in time to see a flash of crimson. He calmed his reflexes once he realized it was the end of the damned ribbon Chitragupta had used to secure his hair into a simple ponytail. Chit insisted the hair tie would accent with his black and crimson jacket. Ezra hadn’t expressed his opinion on the Syphon’s persistent and surprising passion for style, but he had decided on a red glove for his right hand, much to the quiet amusement of Chitragupta.

As if reading his thoughts, Chitragupta serenaded from his perch in the dead oak tree _._

Ezra allowed a faint smile to touch his lips in turn.

“He isn’t going to make this easy, is he?” he murmured to the two Syphons.

He’d known that before coming. Accepted it. He would have to make some sacrifices, but he also refused to bend _completely_ to Indra. He would convey a sort of submission the king wanted to see but keep a straight-spine when it came to other particulars.

Long lashes lowered as he reached behind his shoulder and touched the spear strapped to his back.

An offering from Kartikeya when the Syphon learned of Ezra’s intentions.

The Syphon had insisted Ezra wield it until he found a sword appropriate enough to use. Ezra didn’t want to wield the sword Indra gave him, if only out of stubborn pride and suspicion of its capability to harm Syphons and daemons. Rather, he recognized the weight of importance Kartikeya placed on the spear, and what it meant to the Syphon, and decided to accept the offer with graciousness.

Sentimentality aside, he was also eager to use it in combat.

Extremely eager.

The weapon seemed familiar to him as he ran his fingers down the gold shaft, feeling the raised and sunken engravings on the metal. 

“Indra!” Ezra raised his voice a bit further.

Above, the clouds began swirling.

It would seem he had finally garnered Indra’s attention.

He wouldn’t deny the spike of adrenaline and anxiety over interacting with Indra. Indra _was_ the King of Gods. Someone who succeeded in getting under Agni’s skin; someone undoubtedly powerful, ancient, and influential. Indra was a master in a world where Ezra had no proper balance. He was going in this blind, yet he had a good idea of how gods functioned.

He recalled Tvastr, Svaha, Agni, Vayu, and Varuna. They were all entitled. All proud and egoistical.

They were very much like the Unda nobles Ezra detested while growing up in the outskirt regions. If he could adapt well enough with the Unda nobles despite living in two separate worlds, he had the confidence he could stand opposite of Indra.

Feeling the heavy weight of focus beating down on him, Ezra calmed his racing pulse. “I would like to speak with you, Indra.” He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the pain and the discomfort before— “Please.”

The lightning bolt was blinding.

Ezra calmly turned his cheek, his vision turning entirely white.

He could feel the god standing across from him. The sense of power the deity exuded was both alarming and exhilarating. God-Kartikeya had an alluring Essence, but Indra… Indra’s Essence was heady. There was also an odd sort of sweetness to it that Ezra could not place. Sweet, but spiked with an unknown element that made it disagreeable to his tongue.

Once his eyes cleared of the bright light, he turned and caught eyes of smug silver.

 _God,_ Ezra hated that Indra looked like that.

And by ‘that’ he meant—

Handsome.

He should have been repulsive and disgusting. Ezra had a general idea of what Indra looked like from their very brief, near-unconscious meeting several months ago, yet the memory had been clouded with pain and fatigue.

The long, platinum blond hair was the same as Ezra remembered. Straight and entirely under control as it fell down his back. His features were aristocratic, finely-shaped, and pale—but still flushed with enough color to be darker than most Unda citizens. There were a pair of dark, bold brows perched over haughty eyes. On anyone else, it would have looked unusual, but even Indra’s eyebrows were slanted with strokes of arrogance and elegance. 

And Indra was _tall._

Taller than Agni. His shoulders were broad, but he was thin and slender—certainly smaller than Agni in that regard—but something told Ezra that Indra was a very capable swordsman.

Arrogance.

Indra was the physical embodiment of smug and beautiful arrogance.

Ezra did not miss the way Indra absorbed him just as carefully, both of them taking a brief moment to examine the other under pretenses of waiting for the other to speak first.

Surprisingly, it was Indra who broke the silence.

“Immortality has… certainly treated you well.” 

He felt plain standing across from Indra, who wore robes of majestic silver and white with a plethora of glimmering and handsome jewelry. Nevertheless, Indra’s tone and his gaze were a bit too fervent to be disinterested as he closely examined Ezra, making the younger god feel anything but unimpressive and out of place.

Indra’s attention lingered carefully across Ezra’s face, mainly his eyes.

His eyes were an attribute Ezra was uneasy with when he finally took notice of them. After bathing, he had stood in front of the mirror, ready to confront the new face of his future. Needless to say, he found himself perplexed at the attractive face staring back at him. It made his chest and stomach lurch, realizing finally what those dying mortal men had seen when they succumbed to death.

His appearance was… It made him uncomfortable…

His eyes, while retaining their typical pale blue, seemed to inherit a new color around his pupils.

Bright red flared vibrantly from each pupil, noticeably staining the usual paleness he was accustomed with.

He didn’t understand why there were changes to his eyes—to the rest of his features as a whole. He still identified traces of Ember. His skin remained relatively the same shade as it once was, perhaps a shade lighter. His hair still possessed wayward kinks, if a bit flattened and tamed with the heavy and long weight. His ears were still small like Ember’s.

His nose, jawline, cheekbones, and eye shape were all different, giving him an appearance of someone he barely recognized. Many of Calder’s attributes—the masculine attributes—seemed to take on a new form. Even his fingers were longer and more tapered. His body—

“I do not see Agni.”

Ezra refocused abruptly, abolishing any and all discomfort over his reflection. “Was he supposed to be here?”

Indra considered the two Syphons perched in the trees, his eyes lingering across Chitragupta before refocusing on Ezra. “Your call was simply unexpected.” A slow smile. “I have looked forward to meeting you, more so now that you do not have the Fire God at your shoulder.”

“Fortunately, I am capable of thinking and acting without Agni,” Ezra responded tightly. “And I cannot say I was as eager to meet your acquaintance as you were to meet mine, seeing as how you’ve been trying to usurp me since my rebirth into a god.”

“Usurp you?” Indra appeared calmly delighted. He moved forward, his cloak trailing behind him like a pool of silk, somehow managing not to snag on the dead, brittle underbrush. At his side, he held a long staff of silver and ivory. It whirred with audible and great power. “You make it sound as if I am trying to dethrone you from your mortal throne.”

Indra slammed the end of his staff in the ground between them.

His hand, ornamented with several rings and delicate chains, curled around the staff as he leaned forward into Ezra’s personal space. “On the contrary, I am supporting your decision to remain here, with your kingdom.”

Ezra remained unaffected with the proximity of the king despite the god’s strong presence. “There is a difference between supporting my decision and caging me here.”

“In the end,” Indra started soberly, “it was your decision, was it not?”

Ezra smiled thinly.

Indra drank in Ezra’s expression with curiosity. Such interest abruptly veiled itself a moment later. “Why leave now?” he asked softly with mocking sincerity. “You have yet to liberate the outskirt regions. You have yet to bridge the gap between the Igni and Unda race. You have yet to support your wife as she unshackles the female gender. You have a son on the way; do you not want to stay here for his birth?”

It was evident that Indra either observed Ezra far more closely than he had ever imagined or he had someone in Elisium feeding him this information. Either way, Indra knew far more about Ezra than Ezra knew about Indra.

And Indra wanted him to know as much.

While it did give Indra the upper hand, Ezra feigned indifference.

“I am honored that you’re an avid fan of my work here.”

Indra’s smile only widened in response of Ezra’s sarcasm. As if he expected it. As if he relished it. The King of Gods straightened up from his looming posture. “From one monarch to the other, and as an avid fan, I would like to see proper and satisfying conclusions to your ambitions.”

Indra was pussyfooting around the main issue, and it was both immensely infuriating and remarkable. He would avoid the topic of Ezra destroying the mortal realm as well as his intentions of using this situation as a control mechanism. He would wait for Ezra to address the issue and he was waiting—irritatingly patient—for Ezra to ask to come to Elisium.

Ezra released a soft scoff of amusement. He hadn’t had to dance around someone like this since Agni, since hostile nobles. With Agni’s absence, and with the nobles conforming to him as the supreme leader in Calder’s absence, Ezra was nearly out of practice.

He looked up at Indra, coy. “Despite unfinished ambitions, I find myself eager to leave for Elisium and learn more about the god realm.”

Indra raised his eyebrows and a pleasant expression crossed his face. It _almost_ wiped the haughtiness from his countenance. “I would _love_ for you to accompany me to Elisium, Ezra.” With a flourish of his wrist, his hand escaped the confinements of his deep sleeve and held itself out to Ezra.

He hated Indra.

That hand was an open trap, ready to close around Ezra with greedy persistency.

One of the Syphons croaked in warning behind Ezra, but Ezra already heard Indra’s intentions loud and clear.

“Hesitations?” Indra pressed his lips together and quirked a brow. “Do not worry, Chitragupta and Kartikeya can accompany us.”

“What are the stipulations?”

“Why must there be stipulations for you to accompany me?”

Indra may want Ezra’s submission, but was he willing to forgo the instant gratification of such submission and obedience just to get Ezra at his side in Elisium? Indra knew of Agni’s grounding in the mortal realm. Therefore, why not take advantage of the situation by taking Ezra with him now and keeping the lockdown in place? It would keep Agni and Ezra separated.

Without Agni, Ezra would be alone in Elisium.

As confident and capable as Ezra may be without the Fire God in the mortal realm, he wasn’t sure he possessed such confidence in the god realm. Indra would be free to isolate, manipulate, and derive ways to enforce submission on Ezra. Although the challenge seemed… gratifying, Ezra wasn’t willing to risk it in an arena he knew nothing about.

“From one monarch to the other,” Ezra started, using Indra’s earlier words, “we both know there is always a stipulation for a subject who disobeyed their king’s orders,” he challenged firmly. “What will be my penalty?”

Indra slowly drew his hand back into the folds of his robes and observed him. “Will you consent to living at the palace until you’ve acclimated to your new role as the Reaper?”

“What of Agni?”

“What of Agni?” Indra countered. “You have said you are capable of making decisions without him.”

“He is my consort,” Ezra said. “Do you expect him to stay at the palace with me? Will you drop the wards blocking entrance into Elisium?”

Something peculiar crossed Indra’s expression.

“Tell me, Ezra, what is your stance on physical relations with family?”

The question was completely unpredictable and it had Ezra reeling.

“Agni hasn’t been entirely forthcoming with you,” Indra continued coolly, most likely reading the naked surprise across Ezra’s face. “I do not blame him for his clandestineness, as it was out of his control, but it is knowledge you should know. You are a product of Brahma.” He nodded at Ezra. “Brahma has red eyes and similar dark hair.” The king curled both hands around his staff and looked into the distance. “Relations among relatives is not uncommon in Elisium, many of us connected in some way through our sires, but with a bond as close as siblings…”

Ezra wouldn’t believe it.

Indra was either trying to shake him or get him to renounce Agni.

“Agni has committed several transgressions against me. Lying about my lineage would be the least of my concerns.” He clasped his hands behind his back and offered Indra an unaffected stare despite how uncomfortable the revelation made him. “So, I ask again. Will you drop the wards blocking entrance in and out of Elisium?”

Would Indra be above lying?

If he was desperate enough, Ezra imagined Indra wouldn’t be opposed to blatant and clumsy deception.

“When you are acclimated, I will open the wards.”

Clearly, Indra was not yet desperate enough to lie. Ezra was at least thankful for that.

“And what of the mortal realm?” Ezra asked, willing to take his chances in Elisium even if it meant exposing himself to Indra’s influence without Agni. He was _willing,_ if only to save the mortal realm _._ “When I leave, will the God of War leave as well?”

“I will extract him.”

Pale eyes narrowed. “As soon as I leave, you’ll pull him from the Eurus Empire? There will be no destruction to the mortal realm?”

Indra and Ezra stared at the other, both devising ways to work around direct answers and blatant lies.

“Alas, my young Reaper, I have promised Vayu an end to the mortal cycle.” Indra feigned true sympathy. “The manner of the destruction was debatable, but destruction was inevitable. It is time to start anew. We have a new Earth Goddess on the way. I would like for her to regrow roots that belong solely to her.”

Ezra stiffened and took a measurable step backward.

Indra pursued him several steps, raising the alarm for Kartikeya and Chit to take flight and hover closely.

“You are so young and inexperienced; you require a wiser deity to guide you,” the king persisted. “Whatever Agni has taught you—”

“Agni has nothing to do with my obligation to the mortal race.”

Indra stopped pursuing Ezra but rather regarded him thoughtfully. His expression closed and he appeared to take an entirely new approach. “I will offer you an olive branch, little fledgling. If you can stop Kartikeya, I will reconsider Vayu’s request. You can safely come to Elisium and not have to worry about your mortals.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Ezra’s leaving for Elisium should have stopped the destruction of mortal life. “You realize, more so than I, that my presence here is destroying the mortals.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Indra smiled in victory.

They both now knew that Ezra had come here out of desperation despite the casualty of his words and actions.

“Then it’s best you make haste.” Indra cocked his head to the side, considering. “Unless, of course, you will consent to more vigorous regulations and boundaries in Elisium. Boundaries that may influence the way things are run in Naraka.”

With pretenses gone, Ezra’s claws unsheathed. “It may be destined we never see eye to eye on the way things are run. The people under my protection will step on the toes of your people and vice versa.”

“It does not have to be that way.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Indra sighed. He placed his cheek upon his staff and gazed piercingly at Ezra. Suspicion lingered in those eyes as he blatantly examined Ezra’s appearance once more. Something indiscernible crossed Indra’s expression, and his fingers tightened around his staff. “You have heard your options. You can come with me now and turn the other cheek here, you can stay here and thwart Kartikeya in risk of decaying the living realm, or… save the mortal realm from any harm and come with me under tighter restrictions.” 

Ezra narrowed his eyes with ire. “I’ll make you choke on your words, Indra. I’ll be the one giving you the options.”

“A bold vow.” Indra smiled wolfishly. “I look forward to it.”

Another lightning bolt struck the ground, but this time, Ezra was prepared. He immaterialized and left before Indra had the opportunity to make a dramatic exit. All the while, as he traveled back to the palace, he seethed.

Perhaps it was time to investigate the entrance to Naraka, after all.

*** * * ***

“You seem preoccupied tonight.”

Ezra stared at his glass of water and watched the curl of lemon zest spiral its way through the depths. When it reached the top, he took hold of it and spun the glass once more, sinking it back down to the bottom. Across from him, Brooke watched his antics with a bemused expression. Before her sat a plate of spiced, fried fish layered with peppered rice and cooked, sautéed carrots.

Ezra wanted to partake.

He wanted to taste the fish even if he wasn’t hungry. He’d gotten Brooke to try Igni-inspired dishes in order to get her acclimated with the culture’s cuisine. At first, she did not take well to the spice, but eventually, she began craving it. Ezra had his assumptions that it was the little one she carried inside her womb who was lending her his Igni traits.

“Did the military meeting not go well today?”

Ezra shook his head. “It went fine. Josiah did well despite being…”

“In comatose?”

He managed a grin at her choice of words. “Despite being in comatose these past several months.” He stared at her plate as she picked apart the peppered rice. “We have allocated many troops outside the walls of Concordia’s capital and toward the east. Many of the fire and water Elementals are relocated there to stop the aircrafts before reaching the capital.”

“You believe they can stop them?”

“It is our only option now. We have some engineers assigned the task of constructing a machine to counter the aircrafts.” He swirled his glass again, the bright lemon skin twirling wildly. “If we can somehow puncture the thick fabric… Perhaps…” he trailed off with a murmur. “Some sort of bow and arrow. But a much larger arrow…”

Or ice?

Would an icicle be enough to puncture the balloon when inflated?

She paid no heed to his muttered musings but rather moved the conversation along to another topic. “The Terra Kingdom arrives tomorrow.” Brooke started cutting her fish into dainty little, bite-sized cubes. She dipped the fish into the side dish of sweet, spicy sauce to add more heat. Her next piece had far more sauce than it did fish. “Will you be prepared to greet them?”

He watched her lazily, amused when her cheeks did not flush as red as they used to. Her water remained untouched.

“Of course I will be prepared.”

She smiled. “I only ask because you’ve been distracted as of late, Ezra. Forgetting appointments, meetings.”

“I know. I plan to fix that.”

Ezra refocused on his water again, staring at it blankly and playing with the condensation from the ice. His thoughts centered on the meeting with Indra just an hour prior. He wasn’t entirely surprised at the outcome. While he’d prepared himself to jump to Elisium that evening, a part of him knew it would be too good to be true. The timing was not right. With Agni now grounded here—somewhere—and with Indra still planning on destroying the mortal realm even without Ezra grounded here…

Somehow, Ezra would need to gain the upper hand.

Indra had too much control over the situation.

It was unsurprising that Indra had the advantage. Ezra would not delude himself into thinking he would suddenly become a god and be on equal level with Indra. No. It would take time. And it certainly wouldn’t come now, when he knew absolutely nothing about Naraka and Elisium. The only thing that upset him about his interaction with Indra—truly upset him—was Ezra’s glaring weakness.

Concordia would always be Ezra’s weakness.

It did not matter if he wiggled out of the mortal realm now; he imagined his enemies would always hold it over his head.

And to know it was being destroyed by his very presence…

He would need to investigate the entrance to Naraka. Just thinking of the underworld made him shift uneasily. He was restless at the thought, feeling as if the realm were reaching to him, urging him to do something, to listen, to—

His attention turned back to Brooke, watching as her face turned bright red before puckering. She hurriedly placed down her fork and gulped from her water, having finally succumbed to spice upon spice.

Ezra placed a curled hand against his cheek, watching her with fondness. His grief, his fears, and his uncertainties seemed to calm when he was in Brooke’s presence. Through the many months of mourning, she’d been there, acting as a sort of stern, yet fond ally. One who never gave him unnecessary pity, but one who empathized and gave him the company and companionship he pretended he did not want.

“Have I ever told you how wonderful of a mother you will be, Brooke?” Ezra said, earning her quick attention. “As much as I am relieved to hear it is a boy, if only so he stands apart from Cyra, a part of me is disappointed we didn’t conceive a girl. We need more formidable women in this capital like you.”

Brooke paused with her glass half-raised.

Swallowing, she placed the glass back on the table and looked across the table at Ezra. Her lips twisted into a smile, but her face seemed to crumble with agony. “Why are you saying that as if you will not be here tomorrow?”

“Because I may not be,” Ezra said. “My presence is not good for the mortal realm. I think you know this.” He waved a hand. “Wasn’t it just today that you said you had to learn to stand on your own?”

Brooke placed down her fork. “You’re not leaving me until you decide on a name,” she said firmly. “Ah! No!” She waved a hand in Ezra’s direction when he opened his mouth, the name at the tip of his tongue. “Not until it’s final. Not until…” she trailed off with a heavy sigh, and her lashes lowered to her plate. “Do not give me the name until you are leaving for certain.”

His mood matched hers.

A grief he could not shake, for its relentless hold would remain entrenched deep inside him long after he departed from Concordia.

“You do know…” Ezra started quietly. “No matter where I go, you can reach out to me. All you need is conviction and my true name. All of which you have. If circumstances allow, I will always be here when you call.”

“If circumstances allow…?” Brooke trailed off darkly.

“My role in the god realm is not entirely supported,” Ezra responded. “I will have more enemies there, I’m sure, than I do here.”

“I don’t understand. Your role is so imperative to the mortal way of life.” She looked across the table at him. “Why would anyone want to stand in your way of judging mortal souls?”

Ezra offered a semblance of a smile before it quickly turned into a frown. His mood was far too dark and sour to feign nonchalance when he felt so bitter. “Unfortunately, the realm where I judge mortal souls, and the entities I have under my control, are dangerous to the gods. They wish to control me.”

“That’s why they’ve locked down the god realm,” Brooke surmised. “They want something from you? And you’re unwilling to give it?”

Ezra exhaled in fond amusement. “You’re sharp and so very right.”

“I know you well, Ezra. Your actions are always justifiable and admissible. I know you would not willingly stay here and withhold compliance unless it was absolutely necessary.” She shook her head. “Even so, is it selfish of me to wish you’d hold out long enough to see our son born? To raise him together? You told me long ago you would not be here for that, and I have accepted it, yet—”

“If I am not here for his birth, you will call me and I will be here. For you. For him.” Brooke seemed to appreciate his reassurance. “I firmly believe Calder will also make a full recovery. One of his regrets was not being able to witness my childhood. I hope—with your consensus, of course—that he can have a second chance with his grandson.”

It was one of Ezra’s regrets as well.

He and Calder had learned to get along and recognize a kindred spirit in each other. Ezra had truly wanted to connect more with his father but realized it was his own presence in the mortal realm that prevented it.

During his recovery after his battle with Yama, it appeared as if Calder had put aside his own beliefs of bastard children and had bonded enough with Cyra to offer to teach her how to wield her water Elemental. 

He would do the same with this child, Ezra was sure of it.

Brooke smiled at him sadly. “Of course, he will be a large part of our child’s life, Ezra.”

The servants entered the room quietly, waiting near the door for either entrance or request to return later.

Brooke and Ezra shared a searching look, the former tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and standing. “I’m afraid I have an appointment to attend to this evening.” She looked irreproachably at Ezra’s knowing look. “Unless, of course, you wish to extend dinner—”

“No need.” He stood, watching as the servant collected Brooke’s dishes. “It’s not with Talia, is it?”

She laughed merrily as she joined him at the end of the table. They interlocked hands as they moved to the corridor—a habit, he realized, that he’d grown accustomed with these past several months together. She had started it and he’d been reluctant. He didn’t know when he’d grown comfortable enough for it to be second nature.

“Talia…” she trailed off, “is a work in progress.”

Something prickled the back of his neck.

Ezra paused to consider the presence before occupying himself with opening the door for Brooke. “Work in progress?”

“It takes time to heal from the loss of a first love,” Brooke explained. “Especially the way that Kai and Talia ended. It was tragic.” She raised herself on to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.”

She hovered nearby, as if waiting to hear the name of their son, as if waiting for Ezra to confirm this was their last time together. Ezra simply smiled and turned his shoulder, escaping toward his quarters. He would keep his promise. When it was his time to go, he would make sure she heard the name he had picked from her vast selection of possibilities.

He ambled down the corridors, thankful he had dismissed his royal guard protection after the palace attack, for Chitragupta hovered outside his rooms as plain as day. Upon seeing the God Eater awaiting his approach, Ezra felt a sense of unease.

The Syphon straightened to his full height, a measly half an inch taller than Ezra. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to visit Naraka tonight.”

“What happened? Is it Kartikeya?”

Chitragupta pressed his lips together and motioned inside the room. His eyes glinted as Ezra moved past him and entered his personal chambers. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark, but the first thing he noticed was the lit fireplace. Flames roared to life, as fierce and angry as he’d ever remembered seeing them before. They shed light across the sitting area, highlighting the form sitting patiently in one of the armchairs.

Half-cast in shadow, half-cast in light, Agni stared back at him like an ominous predator.

A horrible shock went through Ezra, causing his chest and throat to squeeze closed.

Chitragupta closed the door behind him, and Ezra gratefully sagged against it.

_God… Agni…_

His hands trembled as they slid against the door on either side of him, hoping to gain a semblance of an anchor. As silent as a shadow, Agni rose from his chair, encouraging the flames to stretch high into the hearth. He took a step closer to Ezra, his eyes radiating just as brightly as the fire.

“Come out from there,” he commanded firmly. “Let me get a proper look at you.”

Ezra panted once, twice, feeling something in him stir at the commanding and authoritative tone. This couldn’t be real. He’d imagined this before but then hated himself for fantasizing over such things and abolished it from his mind. Agni wasn’t in the mortal realm. What was the point in fantasizing about something that would not happen?

But it was happening.

And Agni was here.

His presence intoxicating and stimulating, so painfully familiar and nostalgic.

Their bond flared to life, having been muted for so long.

It was as if Agni had concealed his presence from him until the very last moment.

To surprise him.

“Ezra,” Agni called, his head inclining just slightly as he gazed across the room at him. “Come here.”

Ezra pushed off from the door and shuffled closer, his body yearning to press against Agni and to refamiliarize himself with the broad form standing across from him. It had been too long. Not only the several months of separation, but before that, too. When—when they’d taken time apart from one another. Everyday, Ezra had missed their closeness.

“No.” Agni’s hand came out from the shadows and pointed at Ezra’s chest. “I said I want a proper look.”

“Agni,” Ezra protested.

The long finger pressed against his dead chest and nudged him away.

Ezra went along with the finger and took a step backward. He looked around before finding the divan. With measured steps, he approached it, feeling the weight of Agni’s stare follow him meticulously. Lowering himself on the cushion, he leaned backward and closed his eyes. His entire body trembled inside his mortal husk, afraid when he stepped out, Agni would take notice of his excitement.

He tried calming himself first.

Unsurprisingly, Agni noticed his delaying.

“You’re making this far more excruciating than it has to be, child.”

Ezra smirked. “Patience.”

“My patience,” Agni started scathingly, “has run out.”

As tempting as it was to make Agni wait further, Ezra was just as impatient. As his mortal body sunk further against the cushions, Ezra drifted out and hovered in the air. A part of him was leery over Agni’s reaction to his appearance. Would he look too different? Indra’s words came back to him, reminding him that he apparently inherited attributes of _Brahma._

Would that turn Agni off?

He turned tangible in front of Agni, his stomach lurching as the taller form moved closer and then quickly backpedaled a step, as if in astonishment. The fire in the hearth brightened to a pale, almost white orange, washing Ezra’s features with clarity. With Agni’s back turned to the fire, the Fire God maintained his stance in the shadow, his face mostly obscured, but his eyes relentlessly bright as they drank in Ezra’s appearance.

A soft hiss sounded from Agni as he reached forward to touch Ezra’s cheek. 

The touch was light, reverent.

The pads of his fingers explored Ezra’s high cheekbones before crossing over to the prominent and masculine jawline. Ezra’s eyes closed as the fingers explored smooth skin, leaving excruciating tingles in their path. The small hairs on his arms rose as Agni stroked his bottom lip before moving to trace his narrow and straight nose. There was a growing tension that made the air heavy, and when the fingers applied a bit more pressure, Ezra sighed.

Agni lifted his chin and Ezra complied.

A fingernail traced down the thin column of his throat before nicking the Adam’s apple possessively.

And then Agni was gone.

Ezra’s eyes snapped open, his pulse calming when he realized Agni had circled him and was considering him from behind. A hand touched his hair before Agni batted playfully at the ponytail. Fingers then grabbed the end of the ponytail before beginning to wrap it around a curled and tight fist. Ezra made a noise of delight as Agni bunched a restraining fist in his hair, forcing his head back.

Agni stood behind Ezra, looming, crowding. His opposite hand touched Ezra’s waist before wrapping around and palming his taunt and firm stomach. The Fire God pressed into him, and Ezra found he fit perfectly against him. His head rested on Agni’s shoulder as the older god moved his face closer and inhaled his exposed neck.

Lips touched his throat, drawing attention to their difference in body heat.

“You truly are a creature that stands above any and all, one I would gladly walk toward in death,” Agni murmured animatedly against his skin. He pressed closer, revealing just how much he enjoyed Ezra’s appearance. “I don’t deserve you, but if I don’t, surely no one else does.”

The hand on his stomach then grabbed his chin and turned his face.

Agni looked into his eyes, his pupils expanding with consuming and alarming desire.

“God. Ezra.”

Ezra exhaled heavily as the erection pressed into him desperately and the hand around his hair tightened further. He moved closer, fighting against the hold on his hair and breathing in Agni. The god dipped his head lower, granting Ezra what he urgently needed. Ezra nuzzled their lips together briefly before he succumbed and kissed Agni.

“Agni,” Ezra spoke into his mouth with a barely-there whimper.

Agni kissed him fiercely, silencing him.

The kiss broke too soon and Ezra nearly pursued Agni like a deranged mind.

“Get on your knees.”

The order went straight to Ezra’s groin. He took a step back in surprise, examining the hard expression on Agni’s face. The god’s eyes were alight, however, greedily absorbing Ezra as if he couldn’t get enough.

“All I heard from you in Elisium is your sharp tongue,” Agni said firmly. “Who is the one and only god you will kneel before?”

 _Oh,_ oh god.

Ezra struggled not to laugh.

Instead, he said with a straight face, “The Fire God.”

Agni looked at the ground. “Then it is time you prove yourself and kneel.”

Ezra smirked, unable to hold back his mirth. Nevertheless, he dropped fluidly to the ground, willing, at Agni’s feet. He stood on his knees, his eyes just level with Agni’s overeager groin. He looked up at Agni, his hands itching to touch, to feel and grope, yet he waited calmly for the order. Agni caught sight of Ezra’s cheeky grin and his own expression faltered, momentarily dropping into one of fond regard and mirroring mirth.

“You know what to do, my love.”

His hands were on Agni like adhesive.

Considering Agni typically didn’t appreciate staying still long enough for Ezra to give him proper oral, this was a treat. Ezra’s fingers curled around Agni’s ankles, shackling both of them and running up the calves with a firm massage. He paused briefly, his bright red glove reminding him of his skeletal hand. He dropped it hurriedly, not wanting Agni to know—not yet.

His left hand ran greedily up Agni’s leg, wanting, desperately, to use both hands but afraid Agni may notice a difference.

He did anyway.

“Ezra,” Agni murmured, his tone lazy, yet his eyes were anything but as they looked down at him. Hooded with suspicion, the fire-like eyes watched him closely. “Your hand? From fingerless gloves to a single glove.”

“Always the trendsetter,” Ezra replied back, palming Agni’s clothed cock with his bare hand.

It was so heavy and hot.

“If it’s a mere trend, why are you refusing to utilize both hands the way you were meant to?”

“You talk far too much for this kind of thing, Agni.” He pressed his palm deeper into the erection. “You’re ruining the mood.”

“I had believed you were a two-handed sadist, not one.”

Ezra flashed back to their sparring lesson in which Agni had fiercely proclaimed him a two-handed sadist. His amusement was short-lived and he grew far more frustrated when the cock under his hold lost its firmness. “Stop, Agni!”

The god in question reached for him, and Ezra moved aside to avoid the hand. Whether accidentally or intentionally, Agni ended up untying the ribbon around his hair. The heavy weight of hair fell around Ezra, and he made a noise of extreme irritation as he hurriedly pushed it away from his face and his general person. He swiftly grabbed it and gathered it at the nape of his neck, looking for the ribbon.

Agni held it between two fingers.

And he was laughing.

 _Agni_. Was _laughing_.

Ezra snatched the ribbon from the god and tied it clumsily, trying not to dwell too long on the pleasant sound of Agni’s laugh. He didn’t remember the last time Agni had laughed like that, if ever. 

“You don’t even know how to tie it properly,” Agni chided as he crouched opposite of Ezra.

“Chit usually does it.”

“Oh?” There was a peculiar edge in Agni’s tone. “Well, I am here now. Let me help.”

Ezra stood up, self-consciously moving his hair aside. Agni straightened from his crouch and settled on the armchair before motioning to the ground in front of him. There was still a stubborn, amused slant to his mouth as he looked at Ezra. “You act as if your hair was personally offending you. Such silliness. It is evident you are uncomfortable with it.”

“I am.”

Regardless of his reservations, he moved to sit in front of Agni. The god touched his shoulders possessively before moving on to comb his fingers through his hair. Ezra sat stubbornly still, trying not to appreciate the sensual touch but failing miserably. The fingers through his hair massaged at his scalp and Ezra immediately sagged forward.

“It is beautiful.”

If Chitragupta were inside the room, he’d be smirking knowingly at Agni’s appreciative tone.

“But I imagine you would feel more comfortable shortening it. For now.” Agni tugged at a few strands. “Adjusting to such a transformation—mind, body, and soul—cannot be easy. If you can have something that is familiar to you, it should be your hair.”

“I wasn’t aware you were a hair therapist.”

Agni tutted and gave a very sharp pull. “Would you like it cut or not?”

“Yes.”

Agni disappeared behind him and Ezra felt the powerful Essence leave the room. He sat stiffly near the fire, his mind reeling. Agni was here. He was back. After so long, they were interacting as if they’d never separated. There was much to talk about, many things to address, but for the moment, Ezra enjoyed the mind-numbing interaction and he had a sentiment that Agni felt the same.

He finally felt at ease. As if he could rest his weary mind.

The Fire God returned with a pair of scissors.

“Do you even know how to cut hair?” Ezra exclaimed. “Should I get Chit—”

“Do you believe my hair stays this length forever?”

“Your hair is hardly an exemplary example of grooming. You rarely ever take it out of its binding.” Ezra glanced at Agni’s handsome features behind him and the tied-back hair at the nape of his neck. “That’s why, isn’t it? Because no one is capable of cutting their own hair and your scissors slipped.”

“Ezra.”

Amused at the exasperation in Agni’s tone, Ezra took the scissors from Agni’s hands and stood up. Setting the shears on the table, he then focused his attention on the god before him. Agni’d had his time. It was Ezra’s turn now.

Moving between the god’s open legs, Ezra placed his hand on Agni’s broad shoulder, marveling at their expansive and strong build. The Fire God moved closer, inclined to present better access as his hands settled around Ezra’s waist. Using his normal hand, Ezra cupped Agni’s cheek, stroking the cheekbone and the area beneath Agni’s pale bottom lashes.

A barely audible sigh escaped Agni and he closed his eyes, nuzzling against Ezra’s hand. 

Ezra placed his knees on either side of Agni as he sat on the man’s lap. With an inane urge to be close, Ezra fell into the broad chest and encircled the man’s torso with eager arms. The strong hands and arms of Agni, the ones Ezra had yearned for, slid around him and pressed him selfishly close.

It was an embrace, Ezra realized foggily.

He’d had his own chance to manhandle and explore Agni, yet he had used the opportunity to simply fall into the god.

To seek comfort.

His face pressed against the crook of Agni’s neck, inhaling the sweet, intoxicating heat. Emotions crawled past Ezra’s strong barriers, and he closed his eyes against the flood of vulnerability. His hands tightened around the material of Agni’s shirt, clutching desperately. The events from the past several months were fresh and persistent as he relived them all.

The stark isolation that had tormented him endlessly, however, remained at bay, unable to penetrate through the circle of Agni’s protection. 

“I am here. You are here.”

Ezra pressed his eyes further closed upon Agni’s reassurance, upon his frustratingly knowing comment.

And smiled. 


	7. A Most Unreceptive Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a huge thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing this chapter! There may be a strong possibility of some typos because I played around with the chapter after she edited! ♥

**7: A Most Unreceptive Welcome**

“I believed you’d still be upset with me.”

Ezra, now dwelling in his mortal form, perched upon the arm of the divan opposite of Agni’s armchair. He observed the god attentively, still unable to believe the golden-haired deity was _here,_ in his suites _._ But he was, and the memory of his earlier embrace still radiated from Ezra’s godly body like a brand. While Ezra had eventually lost the ability to remain tangible, he could still feel the effects of being held by Agni. The Fire God’s proximity, as well as the raging fire in the hearth, had warmed Ezra until his face had flushed with heat.

The temperature between his godly form and his cold mortal prison was dramatic. 

It felt good to be warm after so long.

He planted his boots on the cushions and adjusted his position on the arm of the divan. “You need to be a bit more specific about which incident, out of the numerous of possibilities, you believed I’m still not over.”

Agni leaned back in his chair and watched Ezra with fleeting amusement. It was then replaced with gravity. “Specifically, I’m talking about the night Yama and the daemons attacked the palace.”

Ezra perched his forearms on top his knees and clasped his hands together. He looked briefly toward his wrist where Cyra’s braided bracelet usually sat. Before he spoke with Indra, he had tied it around his god form as well as all the mourning braids from his fallen teammates. He didn’t want to risk losing them. That, and the Azeri ring.

“I’m not upset with you,” Ezra said simply. “And we don’t need to discuss that night in any sort of capacity.”

“I’d like to discuss it.”

“You and Chitragupta both want to discuss it. Perhaps you two can discuss it together.”

Agni suddenly stood up. Ezra watched him distrustfully from the corner of his eye as the god glided forward. Agni breezed past him with intentional slowness before settling on the other end of the divan, directly in Ezra’s line of sight.

There was no turning away now.

Throwing an arm around the back of the divan, Agni angled his body toward Ezra. Half-sprawled, he looked hardly uncomfortable and every bit the graceful specimen as he channeled a ridiculous amount of casualty and firm control. Now that the god was basically prone in front of him, Ezra unabashedly appraised him.

He wore robes that were similar to the ones he typically wore—those absurdly silky and handsome robes that tied around his middle—only this one layered off at his knees. As he crossed his leg over the other, he drew attention to the fitted black trousers and the short boots.

Ezra’s eyes lingered over the Fire God, not typically inclined to appreciate fashion, but Agni looked attractive. And unlike the floor-length robes, albeit handsome on Agni, Ezra could actually see himself wearing something similar. Fortunately for Agni, they were far too dissimilar in stature, otherwise he’d be raiding Agni’s closet in Elisium.

The thought was immensely amusing to Ezra.

Agni’s attention honed in on his faint smile. “I have no desire to speak with Chitragupta,” he responded, entirely oblivious to what was truly going on in Ezra’s head. “That leaves you the reluctant listener.”

“I have grown accustomed to that role when it comes to you.”

Agni exhaled levelly, his expression stiffening to hide his exasperated amusement. On top the divan, his fingers twitched, curled, before elongating once more in a relaxed manner. Like a feline’s claws. He observed the faint smile across Ezra’s lips as it slanted into a smirk. “You are not getting out of this conversation by cute attempts of changing the subject.”

Ezra shook his head and feigned indifference. “I’ve come to terms with what happened. I’d much rather speak about Indra and Naraka.”

“All great points to discuss. Later.” He glanced at the clock. “Now that you do not require sleep, we have a great deal of time.” His eyes refocused on Ezra and they appeared both ominous and sadistic. “All this time together…” he trailed off with implied and wicked intent.

“I’d rather spend the time doing things that require less talking.”

Agni chuckled. “Something we can look forward to for afterward.” A pause and a mocking glint entered his eyes. “Assuming, of course, you can hold a tangible form long enough to participate.”

Ezra laughed once at the irony. “You come so quickly, Agni, being tangible for that short amount of time would be easy.”

Agni was unaffected with the jibe; if anything, he appeared greatly indulged.

“Why withhold the gratification of pleasure when I recover just as quickly?” 

As Ezra opened his mouth with a quick retort, Agni delivered a stern look. It immediately kept Ezra’s mouth closed to anymore cheeky comments and conversation evaders. He stared uncomprehendingly at the god, appreciating the absolute command and authority Agni projected.

Had it always been there? To such an extent?

Why did it send an exhilarating thrill down his spine?

_“Get on your knees.”_

At the memory of Agni’s earlier demand, Ezra sucked in a careful breath as his thrill spasmed into arousal.

Clearly, as Chit would say, Ezra had been deprived of Agni’s ‘firm and authoritative hand’. He didn’t know what he thought about his body’s reaction. A part of him felt ashamed for enjoying it, while another part of him couldn’t care a less about his shame, for he had the capability of stopping the demonstration of dominance if he so chose.

Or rising up and meeting it with his own…

It had been so long. Ezra was eager to reexamine their physical chemistry and determine if anything had changed.

“You viewed the memories from the spear.” It was not a question, but rather a statement of acknowledgement.

“I did.” Ezra faltered, recalling the sheer devastation he’d observed.

He wanted to talk about Svaha, but Agni clearly had other ideas.

“But you did not view the memories from the ring. Just as I knew you would not. Why is that, Ezra?”

Ezra tightened his hands together and maintained firm eye contact with the intent gaze of Agni. “I no longer feel insecure about our relationship. I do not need to unearth memories of old for proof of your intentions.”

“That’s not why,” Agni called him out calmly. “Why?”

They were really doing this. “I much rather prefer the hair therapist side of you.” The red in Agni’s eyes was nearly overwhelming the orange. Ezra chose not to press his luck, no matter how amusing it would be to continue the banter. “There were a couple of reasons, really. You weren’t here. It was easier to avoid thinking about you. Being reminded of you set me back when I needed to move forward for Concordia. For myself.”

“You didn’t even light fires.”

“I avoided them like the plague.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“We could have communicated.”

“Like the way you communicated with Josiah?” Ezra smiled with teeth. “You wanted me to wait around the fire with bated breath, hoping today would be the day you’d grace me with a word or two?”

“I may not have reached out to you as often as we both needed, for it was tasking to reach the mortal realm. As well, with the time difference—”

“You hardly even noticed our separation,” Ezra proclaimed jealously. “It was mere _days_ for you.”

“That’s a rather bold statement from you.” Agni lowered his lashes with simmering displeasure. “I spent nearly every day with you for the past two decades. Even several hours of forced separation are enough to cause unease, especially considering the way we parted. If you presume to know what I am thinking and feeling, at least presume correctly.”

Despite the flitter of surprise at Agni’s confession, Ezra remained headstrong. “You’re not exactly the easiest person to read.”

Something amused Agni greatly upon that comment. It was not the amusement he’d demonstrated earlier tonight, but rather of the dark and cynical variety. “That is ironic coming from you, child. Your expression and countenance are as cold as the pretty ice you conjure.”

“Yet, you read me like an open book.”

“That’s what twenty-two years of observing award you with. The ability to know your counterpart well.” Agni watched Ezra’s expression as if looking for those small signs that would clue him into what he was thinking. “We have addressed one reason why you did not view the ring’s memories. Now tell me the last and most important reason.”

“If you already know, why must I say it?”

“That is not the purpose of this discussion.” Agni’s stare was unyielding. “Tell me. Say it.”

Ezra looked down at his clasped, gloved hands. He then looked back up at Agni. “I was afraid that, if I watched the memories, I would hate you all over again. For new reasons and for old.”

“New reasons because of what transpired recently,” Agni said knowingly. “With your mother. With Kai. With Cyra. Concordia.”

Ezra’s smile was fleeting and he refused to meet Agni’s eyes. “And it kills me, knowing what I know now, that I would do it all again.”

“Such a sacrifice was not supposed to happen.” Agni removed his arm from the top of the divan and sat up. “My intentions that night were to spare you that grief and that difficult decision. When Chitragupta told me of the Noir User’s location, I left you unaware because I wanted you to stay with your daughter. I believed, by killing Shula Idris, that I could end the curse and save Cyra.”

Reigning a semblance of control over his emotions, Ezra finally looked back up. “I know that, Agni. And that’s why I would make the same decision again if I had to. We didn’t know what Ember had planned.” Ezra shrugged once. “She could have been waiting for you, instead. Or she could have circled back around to get you when I was distracted at the palace.”

He regarded Agni’s attentiveness.

The way he perched forward and watched Ezra made it seem as if he were waiting for something.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Ezra admitted. “My resentment over what you’ve done to Ember and Kai are issues we’ve already exhausted. There is no point revisiting them. As for Cyra… if you want me to admit to my grief…” he trailed off and raised his palms. “I’ve already acknowledged she’s an open wound that’s only gradually healing.”

Remorsefully, he rubbed at his bare wrist.

“I’m going to see her again.”

“Yes, you will,” Agni agreed. “And you will lay that precious soul to rest.”

Ezra smiled faintly, looking into the hearth of flames without truly seeing them. “You know, as soon as I learned you and Varuna wanted to separate the Igni and Unda people, I had conceived a plan to jump back to the mortal realm. But that night—after I was reborn and I jumped back—I believe my reason for returning here had more to do with finally harnessing some goddamn control in my life.”

“And it backfired on you.”

“If it wasn’t for the mortal realm decomposing with my presence, I wouldn’t find much fault in my current situation.”

“With the exception of Naraka needing its Reaper.”

Ezra sat, petulant, on the arm of the divan. “Not you too.”

Agni disregarded the comment. “The mortal realm is a comfortable place for you, but you cannot ignore the sheer amount of obligation, duty, and liberation required of you in Naraka. Is it, perhaps, fear of the unknown that prevents you from heeding those despairing cries?”

“I’m not afraid.”

Fiery eyes stared through him. “You have a very fragile frame of mind right now, _charu_. Are you using this time in the mortal realm to recover? To regain your balance before undertaking your duties? A level head is absolutely essential.”

Ezra slid off the arm of the divan, enraged. “Damn you, Agni. This is why you wanted to have this conversation, isn’t it? So you can bring it around and proclaim I’m _fragile_? To light a fire under my ass so I can prove you wrong? To get me to leave for Naraka?” Seething, he stared down at Agni, who remained sitting utterly calm and unaffected. “Unfortunately for you, you’re a bit too late. I’ve already come to those conclusions. I have already contacted Indra.”

Something furious stirred in Agni’s eyes at the mention of Ezra contacting Indra.

“You’re here.”

Ezra turned, surprised to see Kartikeya standing behind him, looking at Agni with an unreadable expression. The Syphon then looked at Ezra and then back at Agni, his broad shoulders stiffening.

“I apologize for interrupting. I had expected we were going to the entrance of Naraka tonight, but clearly…”

“You’re not interrupting,” Ezra said icily. “I need some air.”

He moved past Kartikeya, feeling Agni’s heavy stare watching him every step of the way.

“Only two hours into our reunion and he’s already tired of me,” Agni said, more to Ezra’s benefit than for Kartikeya’s. “Stay close by, child.”

Ezra moved out the door so quick, Chitragupta had to stumble out of the way. He offered the Syphon a cold stare as he shut the door behind him. “Please tell me you weren’t eavesdropping.”

Chit appeared innocent. Too innocent. “Not outside the door. Eavesdropping is far more effective in the shadows.” He pretended he did not see Ezra’s unimpressed look. “Speaking of snooping, I bet that is one conversation you’d like to overhear.” As if to divert the accusation of listening in on Agni and Ezra, Chit pointed at the door. “That has to carry far more tension than your conversation.”

“Chit.” Ezra breezed past him and down the corridor.

“I don’t know why you’re upset. Agni is merely doing what he does best. Patronizing and manipulating.”

Indeed, it was exactly what Agni does best. Only, Agni was unaware of the events that transpired with Ezra after his grounding. He was working off outdated information and he only succeeded in infuriating Ezra by stating things he already knew. The Fire God must have realized his misstep when Ezra said he’d contacted Indra and when Kartikeya mentioned searching the entrance of Naraka.

Still, there were truths to Agni’s words.

Truths that were hard to swallow because they were scarily accurate.

_“The mortal realm is a comfortable place for you, but you cannot ignore the sheer amount of obligation, duty, and liberation required of you in Naraka. Is it, perhaps, fear of the unknown that prevents you from heeding those despairing cries?”_

He may be afraid. He may be tentative.

But fear sometimes had a way of driving someone to do great and remarkable things.

“What is this about a haircut, though?” Chitragupta pressed as he followed Ezra down the corridor. “I happen to handle shears very well. Please don’t let Agni anywhere near your hair…”

*** * * ***

He looked after the Reaper upon his father’s smothering, protective command about staying close by.

The God of Death did not reveal anything but the tight line of frustration across his brow. Kartikeya turned back to Agni, feeling unprepared for the imminent confrontation. Agni, meanwhile, slowly unfolded himself from the divan and stood across from him with the self-assurance and preeminence only an ancient and legendary god could harness. 

Kartikeya stared in reluctant awe, having nearly forgotten what it was like standing in his father’s presence.

Upon discovering the scene between the Reaper— _Ezra,_ he corrected himself—and his father, Kartikeya could have turned and left without drawing attention to himself. It would have been wise, considering the cloud of disorientation still hovering at the forefront of his mind.

Nevertheless, when Ezra had flown into a rage and hotly cursed Agni, he’d been far too astonished to move properly.

The Reaper had harnessed such insolence, such disrespect.

“Will he be—”

“He will be just fine. It will just require a small amount of groveling on my part to get him to come back around.”

Judging from the spark in Agni’s eyes and the fond smile, this was a normal occurrence between the two. It surprised Kartikeya that their dynamic was so animated, so heated. He would have believed Ezra to be submissive and overwhelmed with both Agni’s age and Agni’s imposing aura like Kartikeya had been as a fledgling.

Yet the Reaper he’d come to know these past several months would never cower, would he? Sulk, perhaps, but never cower.

Not with his endless supply of cheeky sarcasm, impertinence, and stubbornness. Not with those few occurrences where he demonstrated a frighteningly commanding and icy presence as Death. During those times, he’d emulated a god who was far older than one of newborn status.

Kartikeya looked forward to seeing more of that god.

“Skanda. My _kumara_.”

Upon the familiar, affectionate call, he looked up as his father neared.

Reminded of what he’d learned about his father these past several days, he allowed Agni nearer without insisting on quarreling about old times. It was as if he were a fledgling again, overcome by his father’s protective presence, overcome with emotion. His resiliency began to crumble. He bowed his head as his father wrapped a warm hand around the nape of his neck and brought him closer.

Agni pressed their foreheads together.

Like he’d always had.

It did not matter to Agni that his son was a dead and gray version of his previous glory.

Agni’s power and Essence thrummed luminously. Kartikeya hated that he was fixated on his father’s grace and divinity—something that now set them apart. Whatever grace, whatever radiance he had once possessed as the God of War, had flickered and extinguished. In its place was cold, death, and ominousness. He was something to be feared and ostracized.

But not by Agni. Not by his father.

His father, who had never once stopped grieving for him. His father, who had never stopped deriving ways to reach him in Naraka.

_Naraka…_

Kartikeya’s control finally slipped and he started weeping.

Deep sobs wracked his body and Agni quickly clasped his biceps. Kartikeya stood gracelessly in his hold, simultaneously trying to muffle his tears and stand tall. Agni quickly put an end to his struggles by pulling him into an embrace. Grateful for the cover, Kartikeya moved closer into the shelter of those arms and held on equally as tight.

Closing his eyes against the painful memories, he allowed himself a moment where he absorbed Agni’s strength.

“You’ve been through much,” Agni said gently.

Ashamed of his reaction, Kartikeya inhaled deeply to center himself and stop his downward spiral. Drawing on his father’s strength once more, he patted Agni’s back several times before pulling away.

He turned his face away as he fought to recover. “I’m sorry.” He scoffed, harnessing his bitter amusement to fend off the toxic memories and sentiments that went along with it. “It is still difficult for me to control my emotions.” Kartikeya pressed his fingers into his eyes to dry the tears. Tears he could still secrete despite his form as a God Eater. He could not bleed as easily, if at all, yet the tears came to him quickly.

He would have preferred to bleed.

“There is nothing for you to apologize for,” his father argued. “It is I who needs to apologize.”

Kartikeya shook his head. “No.” He continued shaking his head as the feelings came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. “I was foolish at the end. I recognized Yama’s desperation, yet I—I held on stubbornly to his beliefs. What would you think of me if I had returned to you after defending him so fervently?”

“I would have thought nothing less of you,” Agni responded firmly. His hand settled on Kartikeya’s shoulder. Fingers tightened, squeezed. “I should have never abandoned you. Never. You were right to defend Naraka and those who dwell within it.”

“And it only took my death for you to see that.” Kartikeya dropped his hand from his face and turned to look at his father. “Those creatures in Naraka deserve just as much liberation as the gods in Elisium.”

“It was my stubborn belief that my father gave my siblings and me the role as preservers—as maintainers—after Vishnu’s passing,” Agni responded deliberately. His fingers squeezed Kartikeya’s shoulder once more. “I had believed the role was to maintain things the way they were. It was my mistake. I realized, just a moment too late, that our roles weren’t to maintain peace, but rather to maintain balance.”

Kartikeya frowned at the remorse his father cautiously revealed.

Agni emphasized. “Both dark. Both light.”

“Dark does not always mean evilness or corruption,” Kartikeya said hoarsely. “The Syphons and daemons—the creatures beneath Naraka—are all different from the Devas in Elisium. Far less pure. Far less… upstanding and desirable. But that does not mean they are creatures meant to be destroyed, suppressed, and buried beneath levels of purgatory and captivity.”

Agni smiled. It was a twisted, bitter smile.

His lashes lowered as he considered the ground.

“Such suppression only offers a semblance of control—a balm—before it bursts open.” Agni looked back up at Kartikeya, his eyes a brilliant shade of crimson. “I not only had you to show me the error of my ways, but… through erroneous actions of my own ignorance, I discovered that my siblings and I were not upholding Rudra’s and Vishnu’s dying wishes.”

“Hence the new Reaper.”

Agni’s expression froze as Kartikeya carefully maneuvered the conversation to the one thing he wanted to discuss the most.

The crimson in Agni’s eyes brightened even further. A warning. “Ezra…” Agni trailed off momentarily, his tone thick with emotion. “Was initially constructed in order to liberate you—to liberate the others—from your prison in Naraka. I knew what sort of master I expected my son to conform to and follow; therefore, I raised Ezra to fit that particular mold.”

Kartikeya, mostly recovered from his breakdown, stepped away from his father and contemplated the situation with a shrewd eye. He discerned from Agni’s expression and tone that he was fiercely protective of any mention of Ezra. Any mocking insinuation or contempt toward the new Reaper would be countered with equal cruelty.

“Initially,” he repeated lowly, “those were your plans. Yet…” Kartikeya recalled the consort marking. Dark. Inky. Possessively coiled around the thin arm and shoulder. The sight of it had unsettled him, simply because he had believed Ezra to be a surrogate son of Agni. Agni had said it himself. _‘I raised Ezra’_. Their rapport was not typical, nor was it easy to accept. “It turned into a great deal more.”

“If he will have me, he will be my husband and eternal partner.”

Kartikeya inhaled sharply.

While unsurprising after seeing the consort mark, the words still triggered a horrible shock.

He did not deny the abhorrence he felt. The disbelief.

Ezra was a…

He was a mere _fledgling._

His father was an incredibly attractive god in appearance, demeanor, intelligence, and battle prowess. He could have anyone he desired. Undeniably, the Reaper was one of the most enticing gods Kartikeya had ever seen. His father had every right to claim the most desirable in Elisium, and yet, Agni had pursued a relationship without ever seeing Ezra’s godly form. Moreover, he had pursued a relationship with Ezra when he was and still was—

 _Brahma._ Ezra wasn’t even old enough to participate in many godly traditions in Elisium—including marriage. Including combat. Including—Kartikeya didn’t even want to think of them being in an intimate relationship before a proper marriage ceremony. What would the others think of Agni? What would they think of the notorious, intimating god sniffing around and branding a newborn as his lover?

It would be a hit to his father’s reputation and his honor. 

“But…” Kartikeya started, noticing how Agni’s eyes honed precariously, “he’s not even a month old in Elisium terms. How can someone that young satisfy your desire for proper companionship? Are you—” he cut himself off abruptly, knowing it would sound terrible and wincing as he finished, “are you just trying to feel young again? Is existence that wearisome that you need a fledgling to rouse your youth?”

Agni stared at him silently for a long while, his expression entirely unreadable.

Kartikeya did not back down.

“I do not expect you or others to understand the nature of our relationship.” Astonishingly, Agni’s impassiveness broke and he chuckled, appearing truly entertained, if not a bit cynical. In an instant later, he turned serious once more. “You were once attentive enough to see your mother was not meant for me. I felt every bit my age when I was with her.”

He'd known that much.

He had grieved for his father every time he had visited. Often times, Agni would roam his territory, entirely withdrawn, his eyes nearly empty as he relived times better suited for a war legend.

“With time, I believe you will be just as perceptive when it comes to Ezra,” Agni continued. “You will recognize why we are ideal partners, and you will recognize why Ezra will make a formidable Reaper. He may be young, but he is rather remarkable for a young fledgling, no?”

True pride slotted across Agni’s expression.

Entirely uncensored, unguarded.

Kartikeya stared.

For the first time since their reunion, Kartikeya truly looked at his father. Though blessed with eternal youth, Agni did appear younger than Kartikeya last remembered. His eyes were brighter. They were no longer tunneled, no longer lifeless, but brilliant in their radiancy. The lines of tension had eased. The god’s stance proud and animated.

He sighed quietly, relenting.

“He fights very well.” At least he had enough opinion on the Reaper’s swordsmanship abilities to carry on the conversation. “A bit reckless at times. He enjoys leaving his feet.” Something like extreme exasperation crossed Agni’s expression. “He also seems to carry an identity crisis, often times switching between your style and Uncle Varuna’s style.”

That seemed to amuse Agni. “He is on the cusp of discovering his own style. I imagine it won’t be much longer until his transitions between the two styles become more fluid, more cohesive. I will work further with him. You would do well to spar with him as well.”

He would enjoy sparring with Ezra.

He may not be the God of War anymore, but that did not mean he’d lost his several centuries worth of combative skills. 

As he refocused on his father, he recalled something earlier in the conversation that made him curious. “You laughed when I mentioned your age difference with Ezra,” Kartikeya said, earning the god’s close scrutiny. “Why do you find it amusing?”

Agni scoffed disdainfully. “You know and understand the intricacy of Elisium well. You will not be the first nor the last to mention it. There will be others who will scorn us for the very same thing. While such derisiveness does not bother me, I know it will ruffle Ezra. Imagining his reaction amuses me. He will not take kindly to such words.”

“Ezra seemed to handle such goading just fine with Indra.”

Agni stilled unnaturally. “What did Indra say to him?”

Kartikeya watched his reaction closely. “That you two are brothers.”

Agni inhaled deeply. “What else?”

The question took Kartikeya by surprise. “So, it’s true?”

Another thing the deities in Elisium would relentlessly pick apart.

Agni moved his head marginally and glided past Kartikeya. He stared into the hearth. “Why rebuke a rumor when it is the lesser of two evils?” He continued before Kartikeya could press the subject. “I want to know what you remember the day of your death.” When Agni looked at him, his expression was frighteningly taciturn. “Who were the gods who cornered and attacked you?”

“I don’t remember,” was Kartikeya’s abrupt answer. His own anger mounted. _Gods_. Plural. Of course there were more than one. “If I had remembered their identities, I wouldn’t have let a lockdown stand in my way.” 

“You must remember _something_.”

The sense of unease was difficult to shake this time around because of Agni’s persistence to remember. He had attempted to rake his memories when he’d spent several months alone, watching the Reaper from a distance. There were pieces that he remembered, pieces that he could not fit and make sense of. He was either experiencing a mental or emotional block.

Was it too painful for him to remember? Death, he imagined, was painful and traumatizing.

But there was also a cold, determined anger he felt. His father may feel inclined to hunt after the ones who did this, but they were Kartikeya’s prey. And after he was finished, he’d convince the Reaper to consume them entirely to prevent their rebirth into Syphons.

Ezra may possess an astonishing amount of righteousness and empathy, but Kartikeya knew he also possessed a cruel streak.

“I remembered feeling cold…” Kartikeya trailed off and shook his head. “I was in Naraka. I know it.”

“You were in Elisium,” Agni informed, “when I found you.”

The words were heavy with anguish.

“I know I was in Naraka before my death.” Kartikeya held up his hands, marveling at the colorless skin. “I was holding something.” Soft. Gentle. Kartikeya exhaled with frustration as it eluded him. “It was after Brahma destroyed Yama, wasn’t it?” At Agni’s nod of confirmation, Kartikeya shook his head. “I don’t—I don’t remember. There was something familiar—a presence—and yet…”

“Someone familiar who attacked you?”

Kartikeya nodded. “It was familiar.” He cursed and turned away. “Why was I in Naraka if Yama had been destroyed at that point?”

Agni pressed relentlessly. “You were carrying something. Why? What?”

“It was small.” His breath had come out in visible clouds as he’d raced up the stairs. “There were stairs. I was climbing the levels of Naraka… It was cold… as it always was, but I was holding something incredibly warm. Something soft.” His fingers rubbed together as he rekindled that sensation. “Very soft. It was alive. I remembered digging in the snow and laying it there.”

“It sounds as if you were burying it.”

Kartikeya pressed a hand to his eyes.

“I imagine you were killed for whatever it was you were hiding away, not because you supported Yama.” Agni moved closer. “If you can remember what it was, we will be one step closer to determining who did this.” A hand curled around the back of his bowed neck, squeezing firmly. “What were you carrying? Something small, warm, alive. Something you buried. An animal? Where did you bury it?”

“In the snow. In Naraka.”

“What—”

“Father, I don’t remember anything else. I don’t.” He straightened and Agni’s hand fell at his side. “I’ll keep trying to remember.” It appeared as if his father wanted to press the issue; however, Kartikeya was quick to turn the subject. “I have discovered I have a new brother. Ezra indicated you were not very familiar with him.”

And it was finally Agni’s turn to endure a conversation he was not inclined to visit, yet he would entertain Kartikeya with an answer.

He was always partial, giving Kartikeya what he wanted.

However, for the first time in his existence, Kartikeya realized he could no longer claim to have Agni’s sole focus and favor. In all honesty, while it would take time for Kartikeya to accept the nature of their relationship, he was pleased his father had finally found his other half.

*** * * ***

“We probably shouldn’t be here without Agni and Kartikeya.” A pause. “I never believed I would say that.”

“We’re just looking.”

Ezra moved across the snow-covered lake alongside Chitragupta. _Of course_ the entrance to Naraka had to be in the north, near the mountains and near their previous confrontation with Ember-Yama.

The cold and the memories nipped at his exposed face as they moved across the frozen lake. The cool weather no longer negatively affected him as it had when he was mortal, but he did not deny the pleasure he felt soaking up warmth. Ezra could have basked in Agni’s arms and near the fireplace all night. But Agni had wanted to _talk_ and exhume topics that Ezra had already mourned.

It was time he moved forward and Agni needed to understand that Ezra had come to that realization without him. 

That would surely sting the Fire God, but his pride would eventually recover.

There were a plethora of other things Ezra needed from Agni. Help recovering from Cyra’s and Ember’s deaths was not one of those things.

“I thought it was just around the bend.”

Upon Ezra’s impatient comment, Chitragupta offered him a derisive look. In the back of Ezra’s mind, he vaguely thought the expression looked familiar. “It would have been more enjoyable if we had been able to fly through the trees together, but because you haven’t yet discovered how to transform into a raven…”

“You’re just a poor instructor,” Ezra countered, feeling his cheeks flush with irritation. “When you tell me to ‘become one’ with the raven, it leaves everything up to interpretation. How am I supposed to do that? What does it even mean?”

“Describing how to do things that are second nature are often times difficult. For instance, if someone asked you how to act like a petulant and moody prince, instructing them would prove challenging because it comes to you so naturally.” Chitragupta touched Ezra’s cheek, earning an aggravated stare. “You look so delectable with your haircut. I’m afraid it had the opposite effect of what you were hoping for.”

“I wasn’t hoping for any effect.” Ezra moved away from the stone-cold finger and ran a hand through his shortened hair. “It was just a nuisance.”

He could see the Syphon’s straining grin from the corner of his eye.

Ezra paid it—and him—no heed as they finally turned another bend and came across the frozen waterfall.

“Agni called you his _charu._ Aren’t you going to ask what it means?” At Ezra’s sullen, unimpressed silence, Chitragupta continued mischievously, “ _Charu_ is a word from the ancient language of Sanskrit. It means ‘beloved’ or ‘beautiful one’. It typically describes someone whose beauty is inconceivable.”

Ezra ground his teeth together to keep his face as expressionless as possible. Nonetheless, a stab of affection managed to wiggle its way past his iron control. Agni and his pet names. “It’s an improvement from ‘child’, I suppose.”

“I would say.”

He glanced at Chit, considering. “How old are you? Are you as old as Agni?”

Chit’s pale eyes widened comically. Evidently, the idea was ludicrous. “I am only a couple of decades older than Kartikeya—Agni’s Kartikeya.”

‘Only a couple of decades older’ made it sound as if it were ‘only a few years’. It was still difficult for Ezra to wrap his mind around living longer than one-hundred years, let alone several centuries. “Do most younger gods know the ancient language?”

“They know a few words. Some words now have new meanings.” Chitragupta grinned. “I studied it as a fledgling. I’m afraid I disappointed my father when I failed to show much interest in becoming a warrior. I can handle the sword just fine, but my days were spent roaming the library and keeping records.” He raised a hand. “Naturally, that assisted me with my role as Justice’s Hand.”

_Justice’s Hand._

Ezra wondered how many of Chitragupta’s talents were inherited from his Essence as a god, or whether they were all unique to him as an individual. Similar to Kartikeya. He was no longer the God of War, yet he still had his ability to combat as a Syphon. Would it be possible for Chitragupta to continue his role as Justice’s Hand when it came to judging souls?

Agni seemed to believe the role required a godly Essence, hence his quest to turn Kai into the next Chit.

Ezra was once again reminded of all the things he had yet to learn and discover about his role as the Reaper.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed, he felt unexpectedly eager.

As much as Ezra wanted to continue the conversation, as well as ask Chit about his life as a god, they finally came to a stop before the frozen waterfall. Ezra reached out with his gloved hand and touched the massive block of ice. Where the waterfall met the lake, ice exploded in all directions, immortalizing and freezing the spray of water into glittering spears.

Ezra’s boots crunched the small pebbles of ice as he roamed the perimeter of the waterfall.

The face of the cliff and its large boulders were incased with a slippery sheen of ice. Further up, near the top of the cliff where water had once dived to the depths below, a dust of glittering frost claimed the rocks and evergreens. Dead trees emerged from the side of the cliff, branching off in vine-like offshoots. They, too, were encased with a thick layer of frost that came alive underneath the moon’s rays.

It was a breathtaking sight.

The sense of alarming unease was the only thing detracting from nature’s splendor.

Ezra cleared the base of the frozen cascade, spying the rocky and uneven terrain that curled down and around the back of the waterfall. He glanced at Chit, who appeared unsure and unnaturally stiff.

“Just looking, little Reaper, correct?”

“Just looking.”

Ezra then turned intangible and traveled down the steep incline. He materialized when he reached the bottom before stalking the length of the narrow ledge. The light from the moon gradually lessened the further he curled around the back of the waterfall, and then there, situated into the rock of the cliff, was an open, gaping hole of black.

Ezra’s breath hitched. He knew that was it.

“I had assumed there was a door.”

Regardless of Chit’s uneasiness, the Syphon chuckled at Ezra’s comment. “There is a warded barrier preventing things from leaving and preventing things from entering. It has been like this ever since Yama took the throne. Many creatures, who had once dwelled in the mortal realm, were prohibited from leaving Naraka.”

“Like?”

“Spirits. Malevolent spirits. Other… creatures we shall discuss in more depth later.” A pause. “It is why daemons were initially created. It was their duty to guide, shepherd, and protect mortals on their path of enlightenment. It was an exalted position, a great honor when Yama bestowed a deceased mortal soul the status of a daemon, for their purpose was once honorable and vital to the mortal race.”

Despite the pull toward the tunneled darkness, the raw edge of sorrow in Chit’s tone had Ezra turning toward the Syphon.

“What happened to cause daemons to become so… savage and simple-minded?”

“Yama happened,” Chit said quietly. “He began making decisions that gradually tarnished Naraka. Such as granting daemon status to souls that were not meant to carry on the duty. He wanted more numbers. His judgement grew astray. His reasonings flawed.” Pale, haunted eyes turned to look at Ezra. “Naraka has a tendency to mirror the Reaper’s state of mind. The surroundings, the creatures, tend to reflect their master’s mentality. As you can imagine, toward the end of Yama’s regime, things in Naraka…”

Ezra waited for him to finish, but it appeared as if Chit would not. “Deteriorated?”

Chit nodded. “Naraka is no Elisium, Ezra. It is unbalanced and dangerous. It has a mind of its own. But the things that once made Naraka beautiful were no longer able to shine when Yama declined.”

“His instability was a consequence of creating the Syphons, was it not?”

“It is one reason for his descent into madness.”

Ezra’s eyes sharpened. “You believe there is more to it?” He observed Chit’s drawn and grim features. The Syphon hardly ever demonstrated that uncanny, ominous aura from when they first met. But it was back now. “What do you believe caused Yama’s downfall?”

Chit stared into the dark tunnel.

“Naraka. Naraka corrupted Yama.”

The hairs rose on the back of Ezra’s neck.

Slowly, he turned back around, noticing the tunnel appeared to have darkened further. Dark tendrils escaped from the tunnel’s entrance like reaching, beckoning fingers, submerging the surroundings in sinister black. With a tantalizing pull, the shadows lured Ezra just a step nearer as he peered into the dark. The ground beneath his feet rumbled once. Twice. Carrying with it a bone-rattling eeriness.

And suddenly, through the gaping nothingness, a pair of eyes peered back at him.

They were canine eyes. 

Two wide, unblinking dots reflected the light and stared out at Ezra.

It felt like an icy hand had plunged inside his chest. “Do you see?” he asked Chit breathlessly.

“Do I see what?”

The eyes disappeared. Ezra blinked, straining his vision to spy them again. Out of the darkness, a pale form suddenly emerged from the tunnel and fell onto the icy rocks before him with a wet _thump._ Ezra stumbled backward and pressed his back against the frozen waterfall when he realized it was a pale, naked body. The skin was tremendously swollen and split and oozing green in several areas.

Ezra pressed a hand against his mouth and nose to quell the smell and nausea.

The body then began to wiggle and inch closer.

A second fell from the tunnel.

And then another.

Ezra pressed himself further against the waterfall, his heart in his throat as they turned into giant, fleshy worms. A thick sludge of black seeped from the tunnel and flowed towards him. The smell was so noxious, he could smell it over his hand. Rotted flesh. Rotted organs. And that’s when the voices began. Conversations. Men. Women. The same voices he’d heard when he had traveled through the shadows.

He moved his opposite hand, sending an icicle through one of the closest worms. It impaled the flesh with a wet suction. As it jerked and rolled, Ezra stared into the face of Cyra.

Crying hoarsely, he turned and nearly collided with Agni.

But not truly Agni.

The god’s face was colorless. Cracks lined his jawline and the skin near his lips and dull-colored eyes. Behind the Syphon-Agni stood two skeletal figures. One much larger than the other.

Kartikeya and Chitragupta.

“Ezra.”

Ezra reared away from the three figures. As he blinked rapidly, the trio gradually turned back into their normal selves. They all stared at him with concern and Agni reached for him to steady his jerky, unbalanced movements. Avoiding the reaching hand, Ezra snapped his head around, looking for the fleshy worms but found them, and the black sludge, gone. What remained behind was the icicle he had summoned to impale the body of Cyra. But even she was gone. Even the voices were gone.

A heavy silence suspended across the group and Ezra realized he was fiercely panting through the hand he’d used to muffle the smell.

He maintained a distance from Agni and the others—Agni and Kartikeya evidently arriving moments ago—in order to collect himself.

Obviously, it had been an illusion.

An illusion.

He dropped his hand and laughed without humor. He noticed a moment later, as his hand swung by his side, that it seared with numbing pain. Ezra cradled his gloved hand as he massaged the bony fingers thought the insulated glove, realizing the progression had moved down to his palm. All the while, he stared into the tunnel, feeling Naraka watch him in turn.

“I appreciate the warm welcome.”

Dark amusement secreted from the tunnel before the presence abruptly disappeared.

Ezra was left standing in wonderment.

Naraka was truly something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Charu’ (Agni’s new pet name for Ezra) is an actual Sanskrit word. As is ‘kumara’. Feel adventurous and look them up if you’re bored. “kumara meaning’ or ‘charu meaning’ 😉 Oh-- and as Arep pointed out- lmao- make sure to google "kumara sanskrit'. Spoiler: It does not mean sweet potato. 😂
> 
> I have officially assigned Sanskrit as the ancient language of the gods. Not many know it, though Agni is fluent.


	8. Way Down We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge 'thank you' to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing this chapter ♥ Any mistakes you may discover are entirely my own.

**Warnings: Graphic lime**

**8\. Way Down We Go**

“Go way down,” he ordered gruffly. “Deeper. _Deeper_. That’s it. Good!”

Brooke flashed Ezra a discrete grin as Delegator Barth encouraged a Terra warrior to descend deeper into the earth. Ezra tried not to catch her eyes, knowing if he did, he wouldn’t be able to maintain a neutral expression. The crude urging resonated across the open field, spurring several nearby warriors to chuckle among themselves.

Their party currently stood around a meadow that extended as far south as the beginning of Region 10.

It was located east of the capital and approximately a one-hour train ride from the palace. Ezra had stationed several military members—Elementals especially—here to intercept the Eurus Empire. The number of warriors lessened the further south one traveled, simply because Ezra anticipated the attacks would focus exclusively on the capital.

Regardless, he had sent a missive to military leaders in Regions 10 and 20 to designate areas for residents to take shelter should there be an airstrike. There were plenty of underground structures made available for the outskirt regions.

The Royal Council had implemented a system that would alert the entire kingdom of the encroaching Eurus Empire. Each region was equipped with a siren—or sirens, depending on the size of the region—which would then alert the neighboring region to activate their sirens. It would be a trickle-down effect and everyone—everywhere—would seek shelter immediately. 

At least, Ezra had peace of mind knowing the outskirt regions had access to underground shelters.

Here, however, they weren’t quite as immune to airstrikes.

Across from the pit, Gaia stood with her hands on her hips. She smirked at Ezra and Brooke before her eyes lowered to Barth.

“Is that deep enough for you, Barth?” she asked cheekily.

Entirely ignorant to the reaction his words provoked, Barth, who crouched at the edge of the pit, nodded seriously. “If we can bottom it out now. Ease into it and give it a bit of room.”

A chorus of laughter erupted from the group of Terra and Concordia soldiers. Ezra offered them a glance. They stood in groups, all adorned in their black and gold uniforms. The warriors from the Terra Kingdom had on simple brown vests and leather trousers with boots. Immediately, he noticed the equal mix of male and female warriors and his mood took a downturn. There’d been so much he had wanted to accomplish for Concordia. He realized he would now need to rely on Brooke, Josiah, and Calder to implement those changes.

And—

And his son. A man he would have no part in raising.

In order to distract himself, he refocused sharply on his surroundings. 

Gaia and several other delegators had arrived at the capital earlier that morning. During Ezra’s correspondence with Chief Heres, the leader of the Terra Kingdom proclaimed there would only be a few handfuls of representatives arriving in Concordia. Subsequently, Ezra had been surprised at the sheer amount of Terra warriors who had exited the train.

He and Chief Heres clearly had differing opinions on what constituted as a ‘few handfuls’.

Because Gaia and her party had been on the train at the time of the Eurus Empire’s airstrike, they had needed debriefing of the situation. Unexpectedly, they had seemed unconcerned for their people back home. In fact, they’d appeared downright amused.

“Their attacks would not touch us. The ground and the earth Elementals would make sure to stabilize any damage that penetrated deep enough,” Gaia had said. “Our main concern is assisting Concordia. It is, after all, the first line of defense preventing the Eurus Empire from coming to the Terra Kingdom.”

Ezra hadn’t argued with her logic.

Not when he already felt high anxiety over god-Kartikeya’s retaliation. Or more appropriately, Indra’s retaliation

Gaia, who was recently elected a Terra delegator, had suggested they create earth shelters for both the warriors as well as the residents of the capital. Ezra knew they wouldn’t have a sufficient amount of time to create enough underground burrows across the kingdom; therefore, his main priority was the front-line.

“Dunstan!” Gaia called to the man in the burrow. “That is plenty.”

Ezra veiled his expression when the earth Elemental leapt from the earthy depths and landed in a crouch outside the burrow. The man was easily larger than any other man Ezra had ever seen. His exposed arms revealed muscles that appeared larger than Ezra’s head.

With an easy-going smile, Dunstan closed the distance between himself and Ezra. Ezra nearly went cross-eyed as he looked up at the looming man.

Their difference in height was comical. 

More muffled chuckles sounded from the warriors, and Ezra imagined they were laughing at his expense.

“It’s deep enough to provide some protection from the airstrikes,” Dunstan explained to Ezra with a resonating baritone. Next to him, Delegator Barth straightened from his crouch, the top of his head just barely reaching Dunstan’s shoulder. “It is a shallow descent so warriors are not falling to their deaths in their haste to enter.”

Ezra moved next to Dunstan and peered down the burrow.

He recalled the depth and destruction of the airstrike at the capital. Though a deep depression claimed the earth among the demolished buildings, it was not an unfathomably deep hole. It led Ezra to believe the explosives, while effective in destruction, did not harbor quite enough power to cause deep indentations into the earth.

This would do nicely.

“Trenches were implemented in the previous war,” a voice spoke just over Ezra’s shoulder. “Is there a possibility we can extend this same idea in a trench-like dugout? As functional as a burrow is, it is not always feasible should there be a sudden attack. Only a few can enter at a time. Even several of these planted across the battlefield will only spare a handful of warriors at a time.”

Ezra offered Agni a look over his shoulder.

The god shrouded himself in the youngest Igni councilmember, Councilman Tyson. As pleased as Ezra was that Agni chose not to possess or approach Josiah, Councilman Tyson was not normally an outspoken leader. Nor was he one who typically wrestled his way and forcibly inserted himself between the queen and king.

Consequently, he received narrow looks from the other councilmembers who had accompanied them out to the battlefield. 

Upon Agni’s suggestion, Barth, Gaia, and Dunstan contemplated the open field. Meanwhile, Ezra kept his eye on Tyson—Agni—and delivered a silent warning.

“A trench with a significant shelf engrooved so warriors can roll underneath and shield themselves from possible detonations,” Barth mused. “That may be practical. Trench warfare.” He nodded and turned to look at Dunstan. “Gather the others. We’re going to extend a trench as far south as time allows.” He paused and turned quickly to Ezra. “If that is acceptable to you, Your Majesty?”

“A remarkable idea, Delegator Barth,” Ezra responded after waiting for Brooke’s agreement. “Our plan is to stop the airstrike from hitting the ground by implementing our Elements, but should there be any failed attempts, an engrooved trench should work.”

_Or at least offer a semblance of protection._

Nearly two days had passed since Chitragupta and Ezra traveled to the Eurus Empire to destroy the aircrafts. While Chit proclaimed he’d destroyed the motors for several of the warships, Ezra would not be surprised if a mass of aircrafts descended from the eastern horizon.

Gaia and Dunstan exchanged coy, private looks before the latter turned and gathered together several Terra warriors. Ezra watched as they moved together cohesively, reflecting a strong, unified bond. 

“May I have a private word, Prince Ezra?” Gaia drew his attention away from the soldiers.

Ezra placed a hand on the small of Brooke’s back, excusing himself. She reciprocated instinctively by clasping his arm. It was such a brief touch, yet it was evident they were familiar with each other to communicate nonverbally. Evident, at least, to Agni. The sheer amount of hostility stemming from his bond with the Fire God took Ezra by little surprise.

Agni’s possessiveness was just what he needed on top of everything else.

Even hours after the incident at Naraka’s entrance, the nape of his neck still throbbed with heat, reminding him of his argument with the Fire God. After the shock of the situation had worn off, Agni had dismissed Kartikeya and Chit before fiercely admonishing Ezra about his recklessness. The hand that had curled around the nape of his neck had seared with heat.

_“You are no longer a mortal who can rely on being reborn into a god after death. Your actions have true consequences now. I told you to stay close by.”_

Agni had been justifiably upset, and yet, Ezra hadn’t done anything worth being upset over. He hadn’t anticipated Naraka to reach out to him in such a way. As retribution to Agni’s anger, Ezra had acted in self-defense and grabbed the god’s wrist with the Cold. It had been enough for Agni to quickly release his neck.

Agni now carried his own physical reminder of Ezra’s anger. 

“Do not,” Ezra warned firmly, drawing Agni’s eyes away from Brooke and onto his own. Perhaps he’d used a bit more venom than necessary, for his command was sharp enough to draw the attention from the surrounding men and women.

Agni smiled an ugly smile and bowed shortly at the waist. “Understood, My King.”

Ezra offered him one last look before moving past the councilmembers and joining Gaia.

She flashed him a bemused look as they fell into step together. “What did that poor man ever do to you?” She glanced over her shoulder at Agni, her green eyes shrewd and assessing. “His suggestion about the trenches was helpful.”

“Looks are oftentimes deceiving.”

“Ah,” Gaia made a noise of understanding and turned back around. “He is one of them then.” Her attention briefly landed on him, her look significant and meaningful.

He pretended not to notice. “For now. It can change quickly.”

She laughed without humor. “Don’t I know it.”

As they moved further away from the councilmembers and warriors, they came across a traveled path through the long grass. The meadows in the Terra Kingdom would put this one to shame. The grass wasn’t nearly as lush here, the topography not nearly as rolling or expansive. There weren’t many trees here either, save for a small cluster further north. And even those weren’t as mighty or as majestic as the ones in Prithvi’s old territory.

Ezra had a premonition that Gaia wanted to speak to him about her.

They ambled along the trampled grass at a lazy pace. Ezra glanced at Gaia, finding it peculiar interacting with her without the high-spirited Earth Goddess possessing her. Ezra and Gaia had conversed just briefly in the Terra Kingdom before Prithvi had taken over. In those brief moments, Ezra had recognized the confident and equally as high-spirited mortal woman.

Prithvi and Gaia were very similar in terms of personality.

“Our kingdoms get along well,” Gaia observed. She turned her heel and gazed back at their respective parties. While her mass of dark, tight curls was gathered atop her head today, there were a few wayward curls that relentlessly fell into her eyes and face. “The bluebloods are a bit uptight, as their namesake claims, but I’m sure, with a little persistency, we can get them to unwind.”

Ezra glanced at the councilmembers intermixed with several Terra delegators.

The Terra delegators appeared to be narrating a story for the entertainment of the councilmembers. Their hand gestures and bright smiles were a welcoming sight after three—almost four—long months of grim and sober affairs. Several delegators then broke out in unrestrained laughter and the Unda nobles appeared uncomfortably rigid.

Ezra smirked wickedly, watching as one of the delegators clasped Muriel Edlen’s shoulder.

Muriel appeared scandalized. 

“You’ll never find a more challenging audience than that crowd,” Ezra remarked, his voice tight with humor. “The sticks up their asses extend for miles.”

“If we stay here long enough, we will appreciate the challenge.” Gaia grinned. “Your wife seems just as blue-blooded as the rest of them, but then she makes a surprising comment that indicates she has a bit of humor and warmth underneath all that glamour after all. Still, I had imagined you marrying a fierce Igni girl.”

_A fierce Igni god, maybe._

“Do you typically fantasize about what kind of women other kingdom leaders will marry?” he teased.

Gaia flashed a smile. “You were cute. Don’t patronize me.”

Ezra chuckled. The sentiment had been very much reciprocated at the time. “Brooke is a remarkable woman who will someday make imperative changes in Concordia. She has a public image to uphold as the queen, but if you interact with her in private, I imagine you’ll see a new side to her.” He noticed her wandering eye. “Speaking of significant others—”

“Dunstan and I aren’t even a couple,” Gaia interrupted with pleasant laughter. “Dad doesn’t approve of Dunstan. Not yet. It is why he sent Barth. To keep an eye on us. He takes his task very seriously.”

Ezra easily spied Barth tailing Dunstan across the meadow as if he somehow expected foul play to happen between Gaia and Dunstan from several yards away.

“Seeing us work so well together makes me wonder why our kingdoms don’t intermingle more often,” Gaia said, losing her mirth. A film of melancholy clouded her features. “We could do some great things united. All four races. It always surprised me why the gods separated their territories. Especially Agni and Prithvi. From what I understood, they got along well.”

Ezra had no quick response.

It dawned on him that Agni had gone through much these past several decades. Agni liked to address Ezra’s losses and help him move on, but they never truly spoke about Agni’s losses. Aside from the day Agni sought Ezra after Prithvi’s death, nothing more was said. Agni never spoke about the loss of his sister. He never spoke about Svaha’s betrayal. He never spoke about the trauma he’d gone through after Kartikeya’s death. 

Ezra knew the god felt deeply.

He was just a master at concealing his wounds.

“Perhaps, when this is all over, a united nation is something in the realm of possibilities.”

Gaia turned to Ezra. “What happened to her, Ezra?” she asked quietly, her voice catching. “I can only imagine what she must have gone through alone. Experiencing hate and disownment from her people. Her contact with me was brief during that time, but I could feel her pain. Her weakening spirit. She was trying so hard to prevent the deaths and to regrow the lost crops. And then—and then she was gone.”

She turned away.

Her hands settled on her hips and she readjusted her stance by throwing back her shoulders. 

“It was a horrifying feeling…” Gaia trailed off. “We all felt it. We all knew.”

Ezra remembered feeling the shockwaves upon Prithvi’s death. While he’d initially believed it to be Agni who had died, discovering it was Prithvi hadn’t changed the tremors of fear and devastation he’d experienced as he sobbed on the floor, sick with nausea. The loss of a major deity was a truly devastating experience.

“And then what happened?” Ezra asked curiously. “The Terra Kingdom all felt her passing. What do you do now?”

“We continue to pray and make offerings to her,” Gaia said. “As if it never happened. As if she were still there. False hope is better than no hope. The Elemental deaths stopped, but disease continues to plague us. The decay from our crops worsened. The very earth and its creatures were dying and suffering at an alarming rate.”

He looked away from her. He shouldn’t be surprised that his presence influenced more than just Concordia.

The living realm was crying out.

Ezra frowned as he registered Gaia’s words. “Earth and creatures _were_ dying and suffering at an alarming rate?”

She looked up at him. “That’s exactly it. Several weeks ago, crops recovered. The earth no longer wept like it does here, in Concordia. While we still have a higher than typical death rate, we finally have our food supply back.” She squinted. “It’s as if our prayers were enough to bring her back. Is that even possible?”

Prithvi was reborn.

Agni hadn’t mentioned it and Ezra hadn’t seen any sort of indication in the mortal world that announced the impending birth of the Earth Goddess. Yet what else would explain the phenomenon of revitalized earth?

“It’s possible you have a new goddess.”

Before Gaia could press further, the sky opened and sheets of rain descended. The nobles were the first ones to hastily leave the area, boarding the train quickly despite being water Elementals. The very prospect of rain was enough of an excuse to pardon themselves from a situation they found far too tiresome to deal with.

Near the train, among the hustle and bustle of the noblemen, Ezra spied Agni speaking to Brooke.

Enraged, Ezra started toward them but stopped abruptly in his pursuit as he looked uncertainly at Gaia. Fortunately, her attention was already on the warriors scrambling toward the pavilions for shelter. She began sprinting across the meadows, throwing a distracted wave in his direction.

“We aren’t finished with this conversation, Ezra!” she called through the rain.

No, he didn’t imagine they were, but Ezra was fast approaching Brooke and his mind was now elsewhere. All he could envision was Kai, Ember, Master Idris, and all the others Agni manipulated around him. The way he had the ability to wind them up and make them dance.

Brooke did not deserve that.

Not her.

Agni saw him coming and raised a superior eyebrow before turning and entering the train with the other noblemen. Ezra was nearly tempted to chase after him. “What did he say to you?” he demanded.

She regarded his anger with a calm eye. The rain hit an invisible barrier and she lifted a hand to extend the barrier over Ezra’s head. “I am tired,” Brooke proclaimed neutrally. “Come.” She held out a gloved hand. “Let us rest on the train.”

His anger turned cold and he clasped her hand gently. Escorting her on board, they entered their own compartment away from noblemen or prying Fire Gods. They settled on the cushioned divan and Brooke wasted no time unlacing her heeled boots. She toed them off and kicked them across the compartment before sagging against the bench in an entirely un-lady like fashion. 

“He told me…” she started after a long bout of silence, “that if I should ever be in desperate need for help with our son, I should call Agni. That he will be there to assist where he can.”

The rain pelted against the train’s windows, emphasizing the heavy silence in the compartment.

Ezra could hardly believe it.

Was this Agni’s way of toying with Ezra? Had he done this intentionally to make Ezra suspicious of his intentions? 

She glanced at his expression and offered a quizzical look. “I didn’t know you and Agni were on good terms.” She unbuttoned her jacket and readily removed it. It dropped on the ground. “It’s still so unbelievable to know that you’re—well… one of them. What is he like? Agni? And Varuna?” Brooke suddenly looked at him with comprehension. “Was Councilman Tyson…”

“Possessed?”

Her eyes widened and her earlier fatigue was replaced with enthusiasm. “I knew he was acting peculiar and unlike himself. Is Agni here to help with the war against the Eurus Empire? It’s reassuring to know he cares about his kingdom so much.”

Before Ezra could either respond or laugh at the irony, Brooke gasped and pressed a hand to her stomach.

He scrambled up abruptly, fear welling in his throat.

He’d been too close. All these weeks, he should have kept a larger distance. What if—

“I’m sorry.” Brooke laughed nervously upon seeing the reaction she’d garnered from him. “Nothing is wrong. He’s just moving! I haven’t felt him before.” She reached up to him. “Give me your hand.”

Ezra’s body turned even more rigid and cold. “No.”

“Ezra.” She sat up. “Stop being so afraid. This is your son. You may never get a chance to experience this again.” She wiggled her hand, urging for him to take it. “Hurry before he stops.”

Reluctantly, Ezra gave her his hand and crouched down before her. She quickly placed his palm on her stomach, pressing it firmly against the bump. At first, Ezra didn’t feel anything. She was only eighteen weeks pregnant. He didn’t think the child could be felt so soon. But as he pressed the heel of his palm more firmly against her, he felt minor vibrations.

He looked up and into her excited eyes, feeling something painful rouse within him.

The movement underneath his palm was a light, nearly unreal feel of his son.

Ezra’s expression crumbled and he bowed his head.

Brooke was there to pull him in close.

*** * * ***

The hollowness stayed with him long after his breakdown on the train.

He closed the heavy drapes to his bedroom suites, feeling the migraine pulse behind his eyes. His hand ached. His body ached. He hadn’t felt this terrible in several days. Chitragupta and Kartikeya— _Skanda,_ he corrected himself—were arguing behind him, their voices a mere buzz as they debated about Naraka or about Kartikeya. He couldn’t remember which topic they settled on.

Fortunately, their presence was a welcoming change from the mortals he’d surrounded himself with all day.

It had been a long day. He was exhausted.

A slight prickle itched its way down the back of his neck.

He turned his head marginally, catching Agni’s eyes from across the room. The god propped his chin upon his hand and lazily watched Ezra. He did a remarkable job ignoring the two Syphons in front of him in favor of peeling back Ezra’s barriers and sensing his disquiet. Whatever he was thinking, he did an impressive job veiling it from his expression.

Ezra’s lips twitched and his stomach warmed at the god’s intense regard.

“Are you with us, child?”

Agni’s inquiry was enough to stop Chit and Skanda from continuing their dispute.

Ezra glanced at the two Syphons before preoccupying himself with drawing the drapes over the other window. Though it was cloudy, it was still hazy and bright. His eyes thanked him as the room descended into heavy darkness. He hoped Brooke did not have an affinity with the drapes and sensed when they were closed. Otherwise, she’d be in here promptly to ‘let the light in’ as well as discard the new batch of wilted, dead flowers.

Evidently, the palace staff had discovered the vase behind the pillows.

“I am here,” he responded levelly. “Where else would I be?”

“Oh?” It was not Agni who called him out, but rather Chit. “What are your thoughts on the matter just discussed?”

Ezra adjusted the drapes, keeping his eyes on the luxurious folds. “I agree with Skanda.”

Chit made a noise of protest in his throat. “You don’t even know what we were discussing.” As Ezra turned around, Chit motioned to Skanda, who stood far away from the others with a dissociative countenance, and then to Agni, who continued to obsessively watch Ezra. “This is what it’s going to be like, isn’t it? Some sort of family alliance. I look forward to Kai joining us. He’ll be sure to support my decisions because they are sound and reasonable.”

“Who is Kai?” Skanda asked.

Chit appeared elated. “Our Reaper’s right hand. A newly-born Syphon. It is best you take that fledgling under your wing, Skanda.”

Ezra frowned at the mention of Kai, his eyes finding Agni’s relentless stare and holding it unhappily. He and Chitragupta had attempted to summon Kai several days after the palace attack. Either Indra’s barrier prevented the summoning, or Kai hadn’t been reborn in Naraka. 

Locating Kai was Ezra’s first plan of action once they found a way through the barriers.

“Was he a major god before his rebirth into a Syphon? Or a minor god?” Skanda’s dark brows furrowed. “I do not recall a ‘Kai’. An unusual name for a deity.” He shot a brief, pointed glance at Ezra as if to include his name along with Kai’s.

“He was entirely mortal,” Chit supplied cheerily as he anticipated the next question.

Skanda did not ask it right away; rather, he looked between his father and Ezra, undoubtedly sensing something there. As well, it was difficult to miss Chit’s eager expression and not anticipate that the Syphon just wanted to cause trouble. “A Syphon is a deceased god. Mortal souls can become daemons, but not Syphons.”

Agni suddenly stirred.

He dropped his hand from his chin but maintained firm eye contact with Ezra. “Don’t you two have somewhere else to be? Perhaps keeping an eye out for Kartikeya or the Eurus Empire? Perhaps you can keep guard over the entrance to Naraka.” Agni finally tore his eyes from Ezra and looked pointedly at his son. “Anything would be helpful.”

Skanda appeared uncomfortable and he avoided looking at Ezra. “Understood.”

“Chitragupta.” Agni then looked once more to Ezra, his gaze unrelenting and heated. “Ezra may be entirely ignorant to our traditions, but you know them better than anyone. Next time, keep your hands to yourself.”

Ezra looked to Chit, unsurprised to find the Syphon appearing overdramatically acquitted.

“And here I believed you’d approve of the new style,” he remarked, glancing at Ezra’s hair. “Just what tradition would you be referring to?” Chit’s pale eyes were alight, once again reminding Ezra of someone he could not place. “You couldn’t possibly be speaking of the courtship before a marriage ceremony. Where the _vadhu_ remains entirely chaste and untouchable to any and to all others before—”

“Get out,” Agni whispered lethally. “Now.”

Skanda and Chitragupta disappeared in a cloud of black, wispy tendrils.

Ezra made sure they disappeared completely from the room before turning and looking at Agni. “‘ _Vadhu’_?” he repeated scathingly, not knowing the meaning but knowing it was ‘one of those words’ that could carry a demeaning insult. “ _‘Marriage’?_ ”

Agni appeared far more relaxed without Chitragupta and Skanda present. He settled further against his chair, and the lines of exasperation disappeared from the corners of his eyes. “We are in a courtship, are we not? Or have you decided, in my absence, you would refuse my hand?” Agni examined the stubborn set to Ezra’s face. “How did you expect a courtship to end if not a wedding? A simple pat on the back in congratulations?”

A nearly inaudible scoff escaped Ezra’s mouth. “I always do enjoy the occasional pat on the back.”

Agni simply stared at him, unimpressed. “There will be a ceremony,” he said softly.

He appeared genuinely serious.

“Why?” Ezra bemoaned.

“Because it is important to _me_ ,” Agni replied. There was no mocking, no mischievousness. Nothing but complete and open truth. “Because it is what I grew up with, what I acknowledge as a sacred tradition.” He appeared displeased. “You have no qualms marrying a woman out of false pretenses. But when it comes to a ceremony with someone you want to spend eternity with, you will balk.” 

Ezra hated to admit it, but Agni had a point.

However, a marriage with Brooke Glyndwr was entirely different from a marriage to Agni. Ezra held back his initial comment, recognizing his complete ignorance in the subject of godly traditions; therefore, it was best not to speak out against it. Not yet. He could no longer look at Elisium and consider it another extension of Concordia. 

“Unless,” Agni started quietly, “you no longer wish to be consorts.”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed as he considered the Fire God. He could detect the beginnings of sly maneuvering and decided to stop it in its tracks.

“We are lovers,” he replied decisively, “as such, it is your obligation to teach me more about the intricacies of this tradition before _we_ make a decision. Together.” Agni’s expression did not move an inch. “I hope you were not expecting me to jump to Elisium and perform a ceremony without any sort of forewarning or input.”

“That was never my intention.” Agni uncrossed his legs. “Once again, Chitragupta is quick to spoil topics I had intended to speak to you about, myself.” He placed his hands on the armrests and leveled Ezra with a patient stare. “We will discuss it in length once we arrive to Elisium.”

 _Marriage_.

Ezra would have preferred eternal courtship even if he did feel something akin to satisfaction and exhilarating fear at the thought of marrying Agni.

“Come here,” Agni beckoned Ezra from across the room. “It’s been nearly twenty minutes. How do you feel?”

Grateful for the change in conversation, Ezra moved around the divan and slowly approached Agni. “Weak,” Ezra responded candidly. “I don’t understand how you do it.”

Agni had kept a physical form for several straight hours the night before—as well as today. Even the thought of staying tangible that long made Ezra’s bones and muscles weary. He was also bitter and resentful for his inadequacy. Whenever Agni demonstrated superiority, whether done intentional or unintentional, Ezra realized how much harder he had to strive to catch up. 

He would catch up. 

“Do not compare yourself with me, little fledgling. Not yet. I’ve had centuries of practice in the mortal realm.” Agni watched his approach with bright eyes. “I also have thousands of active worshippers in the mortal realm. Even a god as old and as powerful as Tvastr would have difficulty remaining physical in the mortal realm for a substantial amount of time.”

“I find that doubtful.” He passed the low table and made his way toward Agni’s chair, his eagerness escalating with every step that brought them closer together. “I don’t even know how to veil my aura yet.”

“You are focusing too deeply on remaining physical so that your aura is projecting strongly to your surroundings.” He lifted a hand and impatiently beckoned Ezra closer. Ezra teased him by remaining just out of reach. “In fact, I would wager that you’re using most of your strength to remain physical when it is not needed. Stop funneling your concentration into your physical form.”

“You’re just as good an instructor as Chit,” Ezra drawled. “Do you both find pleasure in being as ambiguous and vague as possible?”

“In short, _charu,_ you are trying too hard. You must feel as if you’re fiercely battling your surroundings. Draw back your energy and focus it internally.”

Frustration all but secreted from Agni at Ezra’s taunting proximity. 

It was difficult keeping a straight face, especially when Agni was forced to rock forward from his lazy position and reach wantonly toward him. The god’s fingers just barely grasped the end of his sleeve and Ezra allowed the contact with a smirk. Clearly pleased with his victory, Agni used his hold on Ezra’s sleeve to pull him closer. Their knees knocked together and Agni was quick to claim his reward by greedily exploring Ezra with his hands. Strong fingers roamed his waistline before easing around to the front of his abdomen. 

Agni’s hands were distracting, and it was clear the god had intentions other than discussing Ezra’s ability of staying tangible. “Dismissing Skanda and Chitragupta for debauched purposes…” Ezra trailed off coyly, pulling slightly away, only for Agni to tug him closer in response. He gloated over the effect he had on the god. “And here I thought we had far too much to discuss. We _do_ have too much to discuss.”

“I look forward to when it is just the two of us in Elisium. We will have uninterrupted time to ‘ _discuss’_ things.” Agni observed Ezra’s raised eyebrows before offering a single delighted laugh. “You didn’t think they would live with us, did you?”

Far too distracted over the prospect of living with Agni, Ezra’s response was delayed.

“Where would they go? Kai—”

Agni shook his head. “No.” He encircled Ezra’s wrist with his fingers. “We will make sure they are properly taken care of, but you and I require privacy.” His pale lashes lifted and fiery, obsessive eyes sought out Ezra. “Do we not?”

The air deflated from his lungs with that look and the insinuations.

Agni seemed to read Ezra’s blank expression for what it was, for his smile was self-indulgent. “Such a rare victory when I can silence your tongue.”

Ezra inhaled deeply to recenter himself and deliver a scathing remark. 

Nothing came.

He really had nothing.

Small tremors of excitement danced down his legs when Agni explored his body with firm touches. The hands were warm through his clothing and Ezra needed to feel what it was like with skin-on-skin contact. A steady and strong palm ran down his stomach before crossing back over to his arm. A pause. Inquisitive fingers pulled at the jacket’s excess material that pooled and folded several times above his wrists.

Agni ran a calculating eye across the heavy and thick jacket that Ezra’s shoulders no longer supported. His attention then ran the length of his fitted trousers that appeared far looser than intended. The god stared pointedly at the extra length bunched just above his boots—boots that had a significant sole and extra lift inside. 

Ezra immediately grew defensive.

He would always be as tall as Agni’s chin. Always. He refused to be anything less than that. He didn’t care about his body’s transformation; he would force it to be the height he desired through any means possible. 

If that meant wearing lifts inside his boots, so be it. 

“What?” he hissed and pulled away with a straight, proud line to his spine.

He held his head high and extended his spine further. 

Agni let him go, but he watched his retreat predatorily. Slowly, the man stood to his full height and followed one of Ezra’s retreating steps with a pursuing move forward. “There is a wardrobe for you in Elisium, but it was rather arrogant of me to assume your godly form would be as large as your mortal form.” The god’s voice came out raspy and hoarse. “The tailors will need to make adjustments.”

“There will be no adjustments needed. For once, your arrogance was warranted and well-received.” 

“Self-denial never did look good on you.” Agni’s stare was hungry and rapturous. “Neither does that ill-fitting jacket and those monstrosities on your feet.”

“Agni—” he broke out into a startled laugh as Agni lunged. As he turned to avoid it, Agni grabbed him roughly around the middle and hoisted him off his feet. “Stop,” he pitched his voice lower and calmed his racing pulse. “Put me down.”

Agni claimed his throat with his mouth as they moved into his sleeping quarters. His teeth nipped and scraped, sending cruel shockwaves of arousal across Ezra’s stomach.

The door slammed shut.

Ezra was thrown unceremoniously on the bed. As soon as his back hit the mattress, he rose back up to meet Agni as the god descended. Planting his knees on the mattress, he grabbed hold of Agni’s face and eagerly pressed their lips together. The Fire God pushed against Ezra, placing his weight against him and intending to send him backward once more, but Ezra stubbornly held his position.

Agni chuckled into the kiss, hurriedly unfastening Ezra’s jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. His hands roamed greedily over his undershirt, grabbing at his lithe shoulders and kneading possessively.

Ezra ran his tongue across Agni’s bottom lip before biting. Hard. With his lip still held captive between Ezra’s teeth, Agni groaned. Red-orange eyes opened and met Ezra’s taunting gaze. Held in that impasse, Agni’s pupils expanded with desire and his breathing quickened. With skilled hands, Ezra unraveled the sash around Agni’s knee-length robe before sliding it around the god’s neck.

He released Agni’s lip, watching triumphantly as blood swelled to the surface.

Agni watched through half-lidded eyes as Ezra looped the sash around his neck twice and pulled. A noise of intense desire and intrigue rumbled through the god’s chest as Ezra yanked his head to the side. “What are you going to do… _little one_?” He laughed mockingly as Ezra tightened the sash relentlessly in response. “As a forewarning, whatever you do, the retribution will be significantly worse for you.”

Ezra did not doubt it.

And he looked forward to Agni’s retribution.

Until then…

He wanted to play with fire.

Whatever exhaustion he’d experienced earlier was readily replaced with adrenaline as he straddled Agni’s lap. Keeping a firm fist curled around the sash at Agni’s neck, Ezra moved his hips at an agonizingly slow pace. The friction became more evident as Agni hardened beneath him, the heat he radiated nearly oppressive.

All the while, Agni watched him keenly, clearly indulging him.

With his robe open and nearly falling off his shoulders, Agni was exposed entirely to Ezra’s ministrations. With his ungloved hand, he explored Agni’s chest and stomach, marveling at the indentations and ropes of muscle. The skin was smooth and hot to the touch. Harnessing the Cold, his fingernails scraped against a nipple before running a firm hand alongside the ribs.

Agni gave a strangled moan, half-aroused, half-pained. 

“You’re not the only one who can play with an element.” 

“Ice is not erotic,” Agni argued faintly. 

“Yet your body is suggesting otherwise,” Ezra said boldly. His fingers splayed against the goosebump-riddled body that burned even hotter in response to the opposing temperature. Agni’s cock hardened further, encouraging Ezra to squirm provokingly above him. 

The god exhaled heavily—finally silenced. 

Ezra lifted marginally off Agni’s erection, tightening the sash and standing on his knees to crowd the god. His attention dropped to Agni’s large cock straining through the thin trousers, elated when he witnessed the dark stain of wetness through the material. He pressed his fingers against the precum and brought his hand to his mouth. Catching Agni’s eye, he licked alongside his finger, eliciting a sharply-focused, rapacious stare from the man. With a relentless tug of the sash, Ezra pulled back Agni’s neck and head. He hovered until he was inches above Agni’s upturned face, savoring the feel of _owning_ the god.

With teasing proximity, Ezra touched their noses together before his tongue flicked out and gathered the blood across Agni’s bitten lip. Under the intense eyes of Agni, Ezra made a show of savoring the taste.

“You’re a little tease,” Agni growled. “Agonizingly gentle. Frustratingly out of reach. A provoker who believes he is untouchable.” His voice sounded gravelly. “A word of advice for next time, child. Forget the neck. Tie the hands.” 

And then Agni’s hands grabbed his waist and delivered not one but two lightning shocks across Ezra’s body.

Ezra yelped, more so out of surprise than pain, though his body all but turned boneless as he flopped forward onto the mattress and twitched sporadically. Using Ezra’s debilitation to his advantage, Agni removed his shirt and boots, throwing them across the room with disgust. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice what you were hiding?” he asked firmly. The sash, once looped around Agni’s neck, found itself fastened firmly around Ezra’s throat. “You didn’t just lose an inch in height, you lost several.” Curling a hand around Ezra’s ankle, Agni pulled the smaller god across the mattress until he lay in the middle.

Ezra buried his face into the mattress as Agni pulled off his trousers.

A hand connected sharply with his ass.

And again.

He moaned throatily as the sting and burn traveled across his backside. His cock stiffened, begging to be touched.

Manhandled.

Anything.

“Come. Get up.” The hand connected with his ass again, this time gentler but persistent. “Has it been so long you have forgotten your natural position? Bridge up.”

Agni pulled at the sash around Ezra’s throat to forcibly assist him in getting onto his hands and knees. Without waiting for Ezra to stabilize himself, Agni mounted him. As the Fire God settled on top of him, the difference in their stature was painfully evident and the weight was both excessive and arousing. Ezra knew exactly why Agni had initiated this position. The older god was eager to dominate and emphasize Ezra’s smaller form.

His hands fisted the bed sheets as he stubbornly held position and fought to support Agni’s weight. Hands that eclipsed his own in size settled next to his while muscular forearms caged him on either side.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t also getting off on their opposing sizes.

Agni’s thick cock rocked alongside his ass, slipping near inside, but never even close to penetrating. The friction was delightful, exhilarating, yet frustrating. With his nose, the god butted Ezra’s cheek, drawing his attention and rewarding him with a kiss from over his shoulder. A hand then curled around Ezra’s erection and stroked him eagerly.

“No, Agni,” Ezra ordered. “Get inside me. Now.” He threw back his hips to meet Agni’s elusive cock.

“Not here.”

Ezra nearly collapsed with disbelief. “ _What_?”

Agni suddenly got off him and rolled him onto his back. Ezra stared up at the looming god, watching as Agni settled between his open legs and slid his cock on top of his stomach. The straining erection was— _oh god._ It nearly extended the entire length of Ezra's stomach, somehow appearing far larger than he remembered. The precum left a glistening trail across Ezra’s tanned skin and he touched it with yearning.

“It’s your first time,” Agni all but groaned as Ezra explored his cock with his fingers. “And you’re smaller, I need to spend more time on you—”

“Stop,” Ezra interrupted aggressively, not wanting to hear anything Agni had just said. It wasn’t his first time and he wasn’t—it didn’t matter if he was smaller than his previous form. “Not everything is smaller.” He pulled at his own needy erection and pressed it against Agni’s. He stroked them both together, earning the older god’s sharp intake of air.

Agni gathered Ezra’s wrists together, forcing his arms above his head while maintaining the friction between their cocks.

The god’s attention then landed on the back of Ezra’s left arm. Whatever he saw there caused his breathing to quicken and his hips to jerk frantically, the friction between their erections nearly mind-numbing. Something twisted Agni’s expression, something akin to debauched pleasure and dark satisfaction.

He was the first to succumb.

As his seed hit Ezra’s chest, Ezra immediately followed after. He moaned as the aftershocks of his climax shook his body. It had been far too long and that was—

_God, that was good._

At first, Ezra believed it had been his consort mark that spurred Agni’s fevered response, but as he turned his head, he noticed inky black symbols tattooed onto the back of his arm. The symbols were entirely unknown to Ezra as they dotted down his arm from his tricep to above his elbow. Because they were on the back of his arm, he hadn’t taken notice of them before. They certainly hadn’t been on his mortal form.

“What is that?” he demanded.

Whatever it was, Agni had identified it.

The god calmly lowered Ezra’s arms from their raised position. “It is a very important discussion topic. For later.”

“Agni,” he warned. “There is no later. Now.”

There were far too many things they needed to discuss later: Prithvi, Kartikeya _,_ Naraka, and Indra. He didn’t want another thing added to the list. Judging from the way Agni’s hands persistently touched his gloved hand, it was evident the god also wanted to discuss what Ezra had been hiding underneath it. The glove was well-insulated enough to keep form and shape, but Ezra wouldn’t be surprised if Agni somehow knew.

Chitragupta probably told him.

“You need to trust me,” Agni said nearly inaudibly, cradling his gloved hand between two large palms, “that now is most certainly not the time to discuss it. You never know who is listening in on your conversations while you’re grounded in the mortal realm. I will not take that risk.”

Staring uncomprehendingly at the forbidding and solemn expression across Agni’s face, Ezra realized the god was implying a possibility of surveillance. He shifted, feeling exposed, but Agni readily draped himself over him. Keeping one hand curled around Ezra’s right hand, Agni trailed the other affectionately across his jawline.

Just as the god opened his mouth to pursue a topic Ezra would most likely be disinclined to discuss, he beat him to it.

“I believe Prithvi is reborn.”

Agni hardly batted a lash. “You mean another Earth Goddess is born.” His stance on the matter of reborn gods and goddesses was clear in his disapproving tone. “There was no indication of her birth. Elisium has barely recovered from the snow and ice resulting from your rebirth.”

“Gaia told me the Terra Kingdom’s crops and wildlife are returning.” Agni stared at him uncomprehendingly and Ezra sighed. “Gaia Slater. Prithvi’s old vessel. Chief Heres’ daughter. The one today—”

“Yes.” Agni lashes lowered unfavorably. He shifted between Ezra’s legs, their spent groins brushing together. Agni seemed pleased at Ezra’s hiss of pleasure. “I know who she is. What makes you believe an Earth Goddess has taken residency here without going the traditional route and being born in Elisium? She is too young to be in the mortal realm alone.”

Momentarily distracted at the irony of Agni’s statement about being too young, Ezra settled more comfortably against the pillows and stared up at the god. He ran a hand across the man’s cheekbone and Agni readily turned into the touch like an overeager feline.

“How else would you explain the Terra Kingdom’s exemption from my influence?”

“Ah, yes. You’re wreaking havoc on the living realm and the living realm is wreaking havoc on you. Another reason to escalate this meaningless battle with Indra as quickly as possible.” He moved away and captured the gloved hand Ezra unsuccessfully tried to move away and hide. He looked down at Ezra as he interlocked their fingers together. “Show me.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“ _I_ am avoiding the subject?” Agni smiled thinly. “Avoidance is typically your forte.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against the crown of Ezra’s forehead. “If another Prithvi is here, the gods will surely investigate. It matters little to me.”

“She’s still your sister.” Agni tensed over him. Ezra wasn’t one to back down. “Kartikeya is still your—”

And that’s when the distant sirens sounded.

As Ezra pulled back and listened as the sirens gradually activated closer to the palace, he had an unsettling feeling that this was it. This was what he’d been fearing ever since his conversation with Indra did not go as planned. In the back of his mind, the persistent unease that had traveled with him all day now overwhelmed him.

He already mourned for what was to come.

*** * * ***

Traveling near the palace was not typically permitted to outsiders unless exclusively invited. The fledglings gathered together under their tutor’s firm instruction, overcome with brimming excitement. The tour was what most _chatrahs_ looked forward to during their initial years of tutelage.

Today was their only opportunity to be this close to King Indra’s immaculate and awe-inspiring palace.

Future opportunities of entering the palace depended on the course of their studies and how well they excelled. The most popular aspiration of young _chatrahs_ was becoming an elite warrior in Indra’s army, specifically a warrior within Tvastr’s Keep. Not many succeeded through the strenuous trials, however, and oftentimes settled for enlisting as a general warrior of the army.

The second most popular aspiration of young _chatrahs_ was an advisory role within the royal courts. Those who succeeded that far would receive additional tutelage under the infamous Brihaspati. The Guru only took on a handful of new _chatrahs_ every century; therefore, the chances of succeeding in such a competitive field were exceptionally rare. Those who were not selected often studied further to become tutors for younger fledglings.

Despite such high aspirations, many fledglings would never see the palace again.

Consequently, they absorbed the sight greedily.

They currently lingered in the marketplace as they waited on three late arrivals. Several gods and goddesses got on their tiptoes to spy the utmost tops of the palace peeking just over the hill. 

The merchants had the unfortunate duty of hosting the _chatrahs_ until their late members joined them. Stern eyes focused on the curious _chatrahs,_ oftentimes slapping away their hands should their fingers venture too close to fabrics made of high quality. However, the majority of the fledglings stood near the end of the marketplace, staring with wonder at the immaculate and well-maintained palace courtyards.

From their position, they saw the vague shape of statues situated among the rows of beautifully blooming flowers and shrubs. Most speculated the statues were that of The Four—the most admired group of Devas that gods of all ages enjoyed gossiping about.

“I think that’s Vayu’s statue!”

Several heads craned together to get a proper look at the statues of marble.

“Do you think we’ll get to see him at the palace?” another gushed. “I heard he’s there often and he’s _so_ beautiful!”

A chorus of avid agreement rippled across the group of fledglings. Their tutor turned a deaf ear to the over-enthusiastic _chatrahs_ as she glanced down the street. Three _chatrahs_ had yet to show. She’d give them another five minutes before continuing on without them.

“Who cares about Vayu, I want to see Agni!”

The excitement only intensified upon the mention of the evasive and ancient warrior god. “Agni is never at the palace,” another countered condescendingly. “Besides, I heard he grounded himself in the mortal realm again. He got past King Indra’s lockdown!”

A quiet hush of awe spread across the group before they all began talking at once, firing questions toward the fledgling who seemed to know all the answers.

“I heard he and King Indra are at war with each other.”

“Of course they are. Why else do you think the fires appeared?”

Within the past three hours, fires had randomly ignited across Elisium. Despite several deities attempting to extinguish them, they continued to burn but never spread. Several eyes turned toward the fire nearest to them, located in the middle of the marketplace. It levitated several inches above the ground and simply burned in place.

“I heard they’re fighting over the Reaper,” one whispered excitingly. “And that Vayu and Tvastr also grounded!”

“Why would they be fighting over the Reaper? He’s a newborn.”

“The right to control him and Naraka, of course!”

“Agni doesn’t want to control the Reaper. I heard…” the fledgling dipped down low to whisper, “that they are consorts.”

“That’s enough gossip,” the tutor reprimanded among the excited and scandalized group of fledglings. “The Reaper is a very young god. He holds a delicate position as the God of Death and Justice. As such, some of his elders are in a disagreement on how best to train him.” She leveled the fledgling with a stern look. “Spreading rumors about the God of Fire and the Reaper is not proper.”

“But it’s true!” the god argued with flushed cheeks.

Thundering footsteps broke apart the group. Their three missing classmates charged through the marketplace, their eyes wide with terror. Before their tutor could reprimand them for being late, they waved their arms wildly with desperation.

“Run! They’re eating gods!”

Their declaration was met with blank, uncomprehending eyes.

It was the lone fire in the marketplace that reclaimed their attention. The bright orange fire darkened into crimson as a shadow moved within the flames. Suddenly, a grey, bony leg stepped from the fire, followed soon by another. The body that emerged from the unrelenting fire was that of a naked, emaciated human. Sunken eyes stared out at the bright marketplace, its shoulders hunched, its ribs painfully evident over the bulging, enormous belly. Its excruciatingly long, skinny neck craned this way and that while it opened its incredibly small mouth. 

They snarled and bared their small, jagged teeth. A second creature appeared behind it from the flames.

The deities panicked as soon as they spotted the new threat, spurring the creatures to attack.

Several of the fledglings witnessed one creature take down a merchant and rip greedily into the god’s leg. It growled before spitting out the torn flesh. Their legs, barely supporting their upper bodies, carried them swiftly across the marketplace with impressive speed and agility.

“Pretas! They’re Pretas!”

One warrior god moved forward and drove his spear into one of the Pretas. The spirit instantly dissolved before it reappeared behind the deity and attacked the back of his neck with hooked teeth. Once again, as if unsatisfied, it spat the flesh from its mouth and tried again. 

The group of _chatrahs,_ along with several other deities, raced into the palace grounds, hoping to seek asylum from an ancient enemy who could not be destroyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had initially taken down this chapter to rethink a few things, but I have since reposted (sorry in advance if you get two email notifications for 8—and for the two reviewers who left comments—I know who you are! Thank you).
> 
> Pretas are creatures within the Hindu legends (actually for many cultures!)—but like many things—I've taken the liberty of altering a few things about them. But feel free to look them up if you're interested. Also, I know some of you were very disappointed over the possibility that Ezra would be shorter. Just because it is confirmed doesn't make him any less impressive or powerful. Just sayin'. 
> 
> **Edit:** I know this will be a reoccurring question. How tall is Ezra now? He went from Agni's chin down to his shoulder. That's allll you need to know.


	9. Men Suspended Within Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it really wasn't the break I was looking forward to. 😅 Maybe I'll try again in the near future. Also to the Tumblr Ask: I did not answer your inquiry regarding an update because I figured this would be answer enough ;)
> 
> A HUGE thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing this chapter! The hyphens truly did not stand a chance ;) ♥ Any mistakes are entirely my own!

**9\. Men Suspended Within Clouds**

He paced back and forth within the confined train compartment, his anxiety high, his body relentlessly unsettled as he tested the weight of the sword Agni had given him. Rotating the hilt, he spun the blade in lazy circles. It was not his ideal weight. It was far heavier than he was accustomed with, and while the balance was faultless, the hilt was awkward to his hand.

“Chitragupta is with the palace. More specifically, he is with Glyndwr and your…father,” Agni reassured, having easily read Ezra’s silence for what it was. “If he finds himself unable to defend them from a possible attack, he will come get you, Skanda, or me.”

“I cannot handle a second palace attack.”

“There will be no second palace attack.” Agni watched Ezra pace. “Calm down.”

“I am _calm_.”

“Yes,” Agni drawled. “You are the epitome of tranquility and levelheadedness.” He turned to look at Skanda, who had just returned from scouting the front lines. He hadn’t seen any sign of the enemy. “I believe we were mistaken. He is not the Reaper, but rather the God of Serenity. It’s in the graceful way he moves in those…” the god trailed off with an offended look at Ezra’s boots, “atrocities.”

Agni’s comment was enough to spur Skanda’s attention to Ezra’s feet.

The Syphon’s brows furrowed, evidently unable to see anything unusual.

“They are not atrocities. You’re just bitter you weren’t observant enough earlier,” Ezra argued. “They are combat boots. I am favorable to the design and durability.”

He stopped rotating the blade and lifted up his foot to observe his boots—boots he’d worn constantly since his rebirth into a god. There was no outward difference from normal boots. They added a bit more height with the sole, but most of the height was buried inside the boot itself, observers none the wiser. What was wrong with remedying his height to one he found acceptable?

“More like the God of False Pretense and Illusion,” Skanda volunteered. He and Agni shared a smile—a smile that looked eerily identical. “How much height do those add? How much height have you inserted inside them?”

“I did not insert soles,” Ezra lied.

“He is a good three to four inches taller than he should be.”

Ezra hissed, “ _Agni_.”

Agni lowered his eyes and feigned proper submission.

Skanda crossed his arms over his broad chest and fought to keep his expression neutral. “He’s just ribbing you, Reaper. You’re not even that short. Height does not make you any better of a warrior, nor any less of a threat. In fact, I found many shorter gods a challenge to battle simply because they were quick and agile. It is evident Agni trained you appropriately for your stature.”

Ezra knew that. It wasn’t so much his prowess in battle that bothered him. He was, after all, familiar with the more aggressive warriors of the Igni Empire. Rather, his reservations over his height dwelled on his determined need to be equals with Agni in every regard. And yet, he would not deny the thrill over the way their opposing statures felt against each other. Instead of making him feel inferior, it had aroused him.

Agni had also enjoyed it. Immensely.

Outside of the bedroom, however, he would not accept standing just at the top of Agni’s shoulder.

The insoles would stay.

“Further training would be beneficial for your new body. Perhaps it would be ideal for us to spar once we reach Naraka.”

Ezra refocused on Skanda.

Interacting with Agni’s son, especially with Agni in the room, was peculiar. It was as if they both had an obligation to get to know one another for the Fire God’s sake, though they both struggled with how to go about it. There was only one thing they could bond over safely, and that was swordsmanship. Bonding over conflicts in Naraka would come later when Skanda was not so overeager with tearing down walls.

“I would appreciate the opportunity to spar with you,” Ezra replied neutrally. “I do not, however, appreciate this sword.” He looked at Agni, who was already watching him warmly. Ezra nearly lost his train of thought with the god’s scrutiny but managed to recover without pause. “It’s a handsome blade, but it does not feel right.”

He lifted the sword to eye level and focused down the length of the deep, bronze blade.

It gleamed in the dimly lit train compartment, the rubies along the crossguard just as eager to show off their brilliancy. An eagle with spread wings and extended talons was engraved on the ricasso, the area where the blade and hilt came together. The detail of the eagle was intricate enough to identify individual feathers.

“It is one of Brahma’s many old blades.” Agni sat forward on the bench and closely scrutinized Ezra’s stance with the sword. “Most can wield his old weapons. They find solace in The Creator’s leftover imprints and are encouraged to wield the sword well enough to appease him. It is said that those who find his weapons undesirable are not true Devas.”

Ezra glanced at Agni, feeling the sword grow even heavier. “What is a Deva?”

“A god,” Agni educated patiently. “A deity. More specifically, it is an age-old term for a branch of deities who were once considered superior. They have conquered their enemy and are now in majority in Elisium. Now, we just call ourselves ‘gods and goddesses’ or ‘deities’.”

A wry twist of his lips revealed Ezra’s true thoughts on the matter. Of course there would be discrimination in Elisium. Something that went even further than the Syphons and daemons. “And…what was the term for the branch of deities who were once considered inferior?”

“Asuras.”

The train seemed to grow oppressive with an indiscernible tension.

Ezra examined Agni’s set face, sensing this was both a grim and imperative topic. “What made them inferior?”

Agni seemed to approve of Ezra’s question. “They were not immortal. Not as pure. Not as beautiful. Granted, they lived for thousands of years, but that was never enough. Additionally, the Devas possessed the Essence and the Amrita, making them the superior gods.” Agni read Ezra’s silence and elaborated. “Amrita is the Nectar of Immortality. Only, it does not truly grant immortality but rather gives the drinker a substantial boost of power and prolongs their life. The Asuras and Devas were always at war with one another, always over something, but most times, the Asuras relentlessly pursued the Devas for the ownership of Amrita.”

“If the gods—Devas—were already gifted with natural immortality through their Essences, why did they need to hoard away the Amrita?” Ezra glanced at Skanda, who appeared contemplatively silent. “Why not share it? Was it a scarce resource?”

“No, it was not scarce, but it was precious. It was power, intoxication, and purification. The Devas alleged they had all rights to the nectar. They did not want their enemies to grow more powerful. They believed Asuras were corrupted and tainted.”

“Why speak about the Asuras?” Skanda interrupted. “Asuras are extinct. They were, even before my time.”

“Ezra should understand all aspects of his new world.” Agni stood up and sauntered toward Skanda. “It is what every fledgling is taught during their studies.” He held out a hand to Skanda. “History has a way of repeating itself, after all.”

Skanda deliberated Agni momentarily before handing him the golden spear.

“So, according to the sword, I am an Asura?” Ezra inquired as he watched Agni approach.

“No. You are very much a Deva. We are all—or were—Devas here.” The Fire God took the sword from Ezra’s hand and promptly handed it to Skanda. The Syphon took it without complaint and sheathed it. “Deities enjoy fabricating parables of why the sword does not agree with a wielder. I just believe you would be far better suited with something that belonged to Rudra. Something that fits your agility and lethality.”

He handed Ezra the spear.

Ezra took hold of the weapon with his gloved hand. The weight was far more agreeable. The feel just right. “Who is Rudra?”

Skanda laughed under his breath and Agni offered him a stern look.

“Rudra was Brahma’s brother.”

Agni’s uncle? “You have more family than just your siblings?”

Agni offered a serpentine smile.

“I am very familiar with my cousin.” He curled a slow hand around the spear, just above Ezra’s grip. Red-orange eyes lingered across Ezra’s face before he looked down at the spear. “Legend proclaims that Brahma became lonely and overwhelmed with his duties. He decided to split himself into three. Each form took on a different faction of his personality. One, the creator. The second, the preserver. The third, the destroyer. Each version inherited their own identity, appearance, and duty.”

Agni moved Ezra’s thumb on the spear until it encountered the engraving of the bear.

“Vishnu, The Preserver.” He then nudged Ezra’s thumb the opposite direction until it rested on the wolf. “Rudra, The Destroyer.”

Ezra allowed his eyes to linger on the wolf, recalling the ice wolf he conjured against Ember and the bracelet charm Cyra had gifted him before her death.

Skanda grinned to himself in the corner. “Rudra, The Howler.”

“We called them the _Trimurti_ ,” Agni said without the slightest pause at his son’s interruption. “Together, they created balance.”

Ezra soaked up the information greedily, his eyes still drawn to the wolf. All three siblings had to be tremendously powerful. From what little knowledge Ezra had, Brahma was viewed almost like a revered myth despite still being alive.

“You said Rudra _was_ Brahma’s brother. What happened to him?”

“Both Vishnu and Rudra died in the Last War, which occurred several centuries ago. You and I will discuss it in depth at a later time, for I know you will appreciate the story. It was a fierce battle with devastating losses.” Agni pressed Ezra’s thumb against the intricate curve between the bear and the wolf. The spear suddenly separated in half. “I have a weapon in mind for you when we return to Elisium, but this should suffice for now. This was not just Rudra’s weapon, but also Vishnu’s weapon.”

Agni gathered the piece that had disconnected, and it—along with the spear in Ezra’s hand—grew to their full size.

“Long ago, Vishnu and Rudra wielded these two separate spears.” Agni twirled the spear around in his hands. The staff was entirely reengraved with just the bear. Ezra held the second staff belonging to the wolf. “After their deaths, however, great tragedy always befell the wielders who used the two spears separately.”

It sounded like magic.

Everything about the god realm was like Noir Magic, only it was all-encompassing and natural. It seemed as if every little thing had a long, sacred history. And even the history—in itself—was magical.

Agni maneuvered the spear expertly before connecting it back into the spear that Ezra held.

The weapons melded back together and the hilt returned to its original engravings of both bear and wolf. Ezra allowed his eyes to linger across Agni’s set shoulders, reminded of the god’s age. He didn’t really _know_ how old Agni was. Ezra had the impression, however, that Agni was beyond a number he could have comprehended, beyond a number Agni kept track of. His ancientness was in the way he moved, it was in his knowledge, and it was in his eyes.

Unexpectedly, Ezra did not panic over how much he had to learn to be equal with Agni; rather, he wanted to know more about his counterpart. He wanted to learn what Agni was like as a fledgling and what trials he had gone through before Svaha, before Skanda.

“And _that,_ Reaper, was a condensed history lesson from an ancient god who always refused to teach fledglings,” Skanda said.

Agni reacted as if this were an age-old argument. “I do not have the necessary patience, nor the interest in tutoring younglings.”

“Why not?” Ezra asked with a casual murmur. He spun the spear and refamiliarized himself with its weight. “Young minds are most susceptible to manipulations. You’d have a whole hoard of minions at your disposal. Not just Skanda and I.”

Agni swiftly circled back around and hovered persistently close, his eyes bright with wicked amusement.

Ezra ran an unimpressed eye down the expectant Fire God, knowing exactly what he wanted but refusing to give in. Rather, Ezra took a step closer, nearly closing the distance. With Ezra’s upturned face, their lips teased each other with tense proximity. After sharing a breath—two breaths—Ezra turned away. Agni’s low exhale followed at his heels.

“You’re sure you didn’t see anything at the front lines?” Ezra asked Skanda as he set the spear on the cushion next to his mortal form.

“Nothing.” Skanda placed a colorless hand on his sword hilt. “Would you like me to check further east? The sirens have silenced, but they had to be triggered and silenced by something.”

“Please. And check further south as well.”

As Skanda disappeared, Ezra sank back into his mortal body. His fatigue eased as he no longer had to focus on a physical shape, yet the conditions were not ideal. He’d never been comfortable re-merging with his dead body, but tonight seemed especially difficult and confining. His vessel’s arm twitched and he gradually moved it to curl around the spear at his side.

As his eyes opened, he stared across the compartment at a displeased Agni.

“You need to be in Elisium,” Agni observed grimly. “This continuous fight with the living realm is truly wreaking havoc on your body—your Essence especially. As a newborn, you have yet to experience proper sustenance.”

Ezra smirked. “You make it sound as if I need my mother’s teat.”

“That is one analogy that fits the situation exceptionally well.” Agni moved forward. “Descending to the mortal realm is a trial many fledglings undertake on their path of becoming a warrior within Indra’s army. It is a trial many look forward to while dreading it at the same time. They are far older than you, yet it’s still a draining and debilitating experience.”

“It’s very draining,” Ezra agreed. “When I jumped back after my rebirth, I felt as if my insides were shredding. At the time, I believed it was just a consequence of all the tragedy that had occurred.”

“You mean to tell me your stress and anxiety were so high, you believed they were harming you bodily?” If anything, Agni appeared even more forbidding. “What you were feeling, in addition to your stress, was the mortal realm impairing your underdeveloped Essence,” Agni said tensely, his expression dark and disapproving. “It will not be much longer.”

He scoffed with amusement. “What did you do, Agni?”

“I made a decision that would require Indra to rely on the Reaper. Unfortunately, the timeline is not entirely predictable. Kartikeya may choose to attack between now and then, resulting in a war that is both unnecessary and destructive. I do not know when Indra will realize he absolutely needs you, but it may turn out that you need him as well.”

Ezra nodded, expecting as much and knowing Agni’s actions would be just as destructive in Elisium as Kartikeya’s actions would be in Concordia. He imagined he’d see the results of Agni’s actions soon enough. There was no reason to ask for details. “So, it’s truly going to happen. We’ll all be in Elisium soon.”

“Ezra—”

“You never did tell me how you were able to get past Indra’s barrier and ground yourself here.” Ezra grabbed the spear and placed it on his lap. He played with the engravings, eager to try it in battle.

Agni was silent for quite some time, either stewing at the interruption of a topic he’d enjoy pressing, or unsure how to proceed with an explanation. The lull in their conversation allowed Ezra to focus on the sounds of the furiously working train and the ferocious wind straining against the windows. The train not only escorted Concordia’s acting king to the front lines but also several dozen more warriors. 

They’d requested Ezra stay behind. A part of him wished he had. He could have stayed at the palace—perhaps asked Chitragupta to possess his mortal corpse while he—in god form—traveled to the front lines.

But even he knew it was time.

If his mortal death had to happen publicly, he’d rather it be while fighting beside his people in the thick of battle.

It had been difficult leaving Brooke behind, knowing there was a very high possibility he may not return quite the same way. 

She had known that, too.

Regardless of their imminent separation, they hadn’t said their farewells. It was far too final and far too somber. After all, Brooke was still waiting for the name of their son and Ezra appreciated that one remaining manacle that kept him in the mortal realm. 

The train came to a screeching halt and the wind became more apparent. Agni turned away from Ezra and contemplated the pitch-black outside with narrowed eyes.

Ezra stood.

“What is it? Is Vayu interfering from Elisium?”

“No,” Agni murmured evenly. “His presence is too strong. I believe he has grounded.” He turned to look at Ezra. “Skanda will face Kartikeya. I will challenge Vayu. You will see to it your mortals are safely defended.” He ran a firm eye down Ezra’s face. “Is that acceptable? That leaves you open to return to the palace should there be a backdoor attack.”

Momentarily disappointed Agni did not consider him ready enough to re-challenge Kartikeya or face Vayu, he understood the reality of it. His weakening godly form was in no condition to battle against a formidable opponent. He wanted victory for Concordia and Terra; therefore, it was best to match Agni and Skanda against the most difficult threats. 

Ezra nodded once, his expression expertly masked.

Agni saw through the façade anyway. He reached out and pressed his thumb against Ezra’s chin. “It is not—”

“Agni,” Ezra interrupted firmly, “I said it is an acceptable plan.”

He moved the hand from his chin.

Before they had the chance to further the conversation, the compartment door opened and Agni quickly dissolved into a red-gold mist. Ezra turned and confronted the uninvited guests, surprised to see Josiah walking into the room, followed by Sachiel. Behind them, the barracks were full of rambunctious voices and heavy boots hitting the floors from the exiting soldiers.

“No.”

Josiah merely lifted an eyebrow at Ezra’s sharp order. “I was not going to be left behind at the palace again.”

Ezra moved forward and intercepted Josiah. “You haven’t even begun to practice dueling with your left hand—”

“How do you know?” Behind Josiah, Sachiel settled by and observed smugly. “I have trained with both hands since I was a young prince in the Igni Empire. Though not nearly as efficient as you, I am not entirely useless with my left hand. As well, my fire Element does not require both hands to function on the battlefield.”

“Fair enough.” Ezra looked between Josiah and Sachiel. “My concerns are not that you are too inefficient to defend yourself, but rather that you are alive and able to return to the palace if I am not able to do so myself. I do not want to take that risk by putting you out there.”

“If that is the case, and you do find yourself unable to return to the palace, I am confident Calder will make a quick recovery, no? No need for me.”

Ezra’s lips pressed together with irritation.

“We wish to fight alongside you, Your Majesty. It is as simple as that,” Sachiel avowed while Josiah and Ezra engaged in a silent feud.

Ezra grudgingly focused on Sachiel. 

“We may be a bit older than your average warrior, but we’re still young enough and far more experienced. Besides, I have never battled an air Elemental.” His blue eyes sparkled animatedly. “It was always a desire of mine to see how our neighbors to the East managed in battle. All four Elements on one battlefield is something I would never miss witnessing.”

Sachiel leaned on his cane, as if he truly needed the prop.

Ezra eyed him sternly before scoffing. “Fine.” Agni suddenly eased beneath the collar of Ezra’s jacket and wrapped himself around his neck. The sensation of the powerful, thrumming Essence soon turned into silky, cool scales. “You’re both grown men. I will not pull rank and banish you to the train. If you want to fight…” he trailed off, looking at the both of them and feeling sentimental again. “Just be safe.”

Someone rapped on the door to the outside and Ezra crossed the compartment in two strides.

He secured the spear in his back holster as he opened the door to outside, feeling the brisk night air. A lieutenant hailed him with a firm salute and stood aside to allow him enough room as he exited. Sachiel and Josiah flanked him on either side as he moved assuredly through the throng of soldiers. There had to be at least several hundred men and women swarming the base and another hundred in the distance, lined near the trench they’d created earlier.

The crowd parted readily for Ezra as he moved toward the general’s tent.

The warriors quieted and stared at him as he passed. Necks craned around others to catch a glimpse of what caused the commotion. Once they spied Ezra, they ducked back down and the enthusiastic whispering began.

Ezra paid them no heed as he continued forward and entered the warmly lit tent. General Sloan and several other high-ranking officials quickly stood at attention upon his arrival. “Your Majesty,” the general started with false pretenses of pleasantry. “I did not anticipate your attendance tonight. We sent word to the palace the alarm was false.”

“Where are the delegators for the Terra Kingdom?” Ezra demanded after a slow, scrutinizing look at the members inside the tent. “They need to be a part of the briefing, do they not?”

“They were here initially, Your Majesty, but we dismissed them after—”

Ezra turned his cheek and cut off Sloan. “Someone collect the delegators.”

The lowest-ranking officer nearly tripped over his feet in his haste to exit the tent and heed Ezra’s orders. Ezra slowly moved forward and curled his gloved hands around the back of a vacant chair. His eyes momentarily dropped from Sloan to study the map of Concordia splayed out on top the table. The map was nearly covered with dozens of empty peanut shells and a half-empty whiskey bottle. 

A cold rage settled in him as Ezra seized the whiskey bottle.

With his opposite hand he grabbed the bottom of the table and flipped it nearly on its side. The shells and glasses all slid across the table and hit the ground at Sloan’s feet. Ezra released the table and it slammed back onto the ground with a protesting _thud._ “You have several million residents living under Concordia’s rule. And this is how you treat her.”

Sloan’s men appeared properly chastised. There were a few, however—Sloan included—that gazed at Ezra with far more backbone than he found acceptable given the situation.

“It was a false alarm from further East,” Sloan said again, this time with quiet anger. “We have several lookouts on the skies.”

“The skies are heavily overcast,” Ezra countered sharply. “And it is dark. What are your lookouts possibly accomplishing besides jacking off?” His voice reverberated across the tent and caused several men to stiffen. “You should have warriors in place! I saw nothing but mass confusion out there. Hundreds of soldiers are mindlessly milling about when they should be prepared for an attack coming at them from the dark.”

He slammed the bottle of whiskey on to the table.

“The generals and captains should be just as sharp and ready at any given second. Not rubbing elbows and bullshitting over whiskey and _peanuts_.”

“I heard you and your father are the top consumers for this particular whiskey,” Sloan sneered. “Just can’t get enough of it. The Eurus Empire cannot be here for another day, so why not live like the drunken royals for the night?”

Behind Ezra, Sachiel gasped with scandalized disapproval.

“It’s a fantastic brand,” Ezra agreed, picking up the bottle again. “You have every right to live like royalty, Sloan. In fact, why don’t you take the bottle and make yourself just as useful by being a lookout? The boys will be thrilled to get a taste.” He held out the bottle to Sloan’s motionless form. “Come now. Take the bottle and find your new post.”

“Who can possibly replace me—”

“You _were_ a replacement, Sloan,” Ezra interrupted frostily. “The one you replaced is ready to reclaim the four stars on his uniform.”

Josiah emerged from the back of the tent and stood next to Ezra. The men around the table all lowered their heads with reverence. Sloan was left standing uselessly alone, looking from Josiah’s missing arm to Ezra’s cold, dead stare. It was the latter that made him cower and hold his tongue. He moved away from the table and toward the exit of the tent.

“Sloan,” Ezra called, effectively stopping the man in place. He held out the bottle. “Take your whiskey and remove your insignia. For tonight, you are a mere private. Lord Josiah will examine your rank later. Perhaps he will be more generous than I would be.”

At first, Sloan appeared as if he would gladly lick Ezra’s boots rather than take possession of the bottle. Yet one look at Ezra’s set, frigid and ominous expression was enough for Sloan to move forward. Something akin to terror ruled his actions as he shakily ripped the four stars from his collar and took the bottle from Ezra.

He exited the tent before the four stars hit the ground.

Around Ezra’s throat, Agni slithered with palpable pleasure.

He caught the attention of Gaia and Barth, both of whom had entered the tent along with the rest of their delegators. They must have entered during the proceedings with Sloan and maintained their silence while observing. 

They nodded to him and he motioned them forward. “I apologize, I am late to the proceedings.” He repositioned himself around the map of Concordia while the others made room for the Terra Delegators. “I’ve already heard it was a false alarm, but where and why is what I need to know.”

One of the Igni captains pointed at the outpost further East on the map, approximately a two-hour train ride from their current location. “The sirens began here, at this outpost, Your Majesty. It was recently reported to be a false alarm. The shadows moving behind the clouds proved to be a false sighting.”

Ezra clasped his hands behind his back and stared at the indicated outpost.

“General Sloan—” one of the men interrupted himself and rephrased after a look toward Josiah. “ _Sloan_ indicated it was far too early for the Eurus Empire to attack. It takes three days for travel from here to the Eurus Empire. We’re expecting them tomorrow night at the earliest.”

“Sloan is an idiot,” Ezra said scathingly. “The Eurus Empire is highly advanced. Their trains outpace ours. They’ve also established they can move in the air. They can and would be here now. They’d wait to attack during nightfall. We do not possess the necessary lighting or advantages to see their approach in the dark. For all we know, they could be well past our front lines and nearing the capital.”

“Should we prepare our warriors?” Gaia asked.

Ezra nodded. “Prepare them. With haste.”

They should have been prepared an hour prior.

A Terra Delegator and one of the Igni captains moved out into the night.

“Keep the train on standby,” Josiah said. “It is best we be prepared for a possible attack at the capital.”

“What good will that do?” Ezra murmured bitterly. “We’re an hour away from the capital. By the time we arrive at the border, the capital will be rendered to dust.”

“That is remarkable optimism, Nephew.”

“I’d like to think of it as being realistic, Uncle.”

He and Josiah shared a look, the latter shaking his head. Before Ezra could press further, the icy, hair-raising sensation of an encroaching Syphon was enough to distract him. Skanda slid close and his shadow-form all but embraced Ezra from behind. _“I once told you not to underestimate Kartikeya on a true battlefield. You are finally witnessing the beginnings of his true power. As the God of War, he has the ability to warp the weakest-minded men and make them underprepared for battle, to shake their very confidence, and destroy the men around them.”_

Ezra had always wondered what other power the God of War possessed. It did not surprise him that he was a master on the battlefield and could harness the minds and courage of warriors.

 _“And in turn,”_ Skanda continued, _“he has the power to stoke and encourage bloodlust and battle-readiness in his men, even those who did not possess it before. Unfortunately, Reaper, war often declares victory for the ones who possess more spirit.”_

Ezra exhaled fiercely, not knowing the extent of Kartikeya’s impact on his men’s mentality but reluctantly acknowledging the weaker minds would be shaky, fearful, and a liability to all and everyone else. “Are you saying Kartikeya is here now?” Ezra murmured quietly as he turned away from the others.

 _“He is.”_ Skanda paused. _“They all are. Sitting right above us.”_

Agni stirred before disappearing from Ezra’s neck. Skanda disappeared immediately after.

Ezra remained stiff and shell-shocked.

“Your Majesty?” Josiah inquired.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he turned back to the table and pressed a hand on the map. “They’re here.”

By the time they had comprehended his words, he was already exiting the tent. The wind pulled relentlessly at his clothes and hair as he gazed into the dark, swollen clouds. If the engines from the aircrafts revealed the Eurus Empire’s presence above, Ezra could not hear them past the howling wind.

As the warriors all raced to their posts under the command of their superiors, one lone man stopped in the midst of it all and pointed upward.

“Look!”

A lightning vein whipped against the dark clouds and highlighted the entire sky with fiery orange. A moment later, an entire war balloon suddenly began to glow through the clouds, appearing seconds away from blowing up. Ezra took a step backward as another lasso of fire-lightning struck a second war balloon and made that one illuminate just as well.

Ezra had to look away from the furiously bright detonations. 

The explosions were deafening.

The ground beneath their feet trembled as a result of the sound blast. Considering the war balloons most likely carried explosives, it was unsurprising to witness such a fierce blast. A third rope-like lightning vein traveled eagerly through the clouds and struck another war balloon. Under the cheers of the Concordia and Terra warriors, the balloon exploded in a shower of fire like the previous two.

The streak of fire then fell from the skies like a shooting star, traveling at breakneck speed before landing in the distant trees. Seconds later, the entire forest went up in furious flame.

That would be wind meeting fire.

Vayu and Agni were occupied. 

“Agni?” Josiah asked lowly as he sidled up to Ezra.

“Who else would be so theatrical?” Ezra watched as fiery pieces of debris fell from the sky and landed in the distant fields. “He downed three warships, but how many are remaining behind the clouds?” He started forward, toward the front lines, and Josiah and Sachiel moved with him.

“Only one way to find out.” Josiah held up his sword and sent a blast of fire into the sky.

It fell short, only illuminating a small portion of the sky. It was, however, enough to encourage the other fire Elementals to take aim and fire into the skies. Along the long stretch of the dugout, several bursts of fire arched high into the night sky and seemingly set the clouds aflame with light. As the bursts arched into the sky, Ezra turned motionless with sheer amazement at what was revealed.

Several figures in white hovered solitarily in the air, dotting the skies and covering a substantial area. Many appeared to be holding a contraption that spun quickly through the air, holding them, and sometimes a comrade, aloft. Evidently, the men and women on the destroyed aircrafts had all abandoned ship and somehow remained airborne.

The sight was utterly unreal.

The figures in white abruptly sent back the fire bursts with a gust of powerful wind.

The crowd of Concordia and Terra warriors all shifted and those of fair hair lunged forward and erected a water barrier. Next to Ezra, Sachiel waved his hand, establishing his own water barrier to swallow the several fire bursts that made their way toward them.

Ezra beamed with pride. Kartikeya may be influencing weak-minded men, but Ezra’s men appeared well put together and surprisingly in sync despite their decades-long antagonism. They knew each other well enough to fight well together in battle. And despite the Terra Kingdom’s unfamiliar presence, it appeared as if they were strategically intermingled within the stretch of warriors.

All things appeared to be going well, until the sky opened up and an explosive descended from the dark clouds.

The shape irregular and cylindrical.

“Troops! At ready!”

The fair-haired water Elementals moved backward and it was the earth Elementals who moved forward and thundered their way across the meadow. Despite their various statures, they moved as if they were one identical unit. They leapt into the air, landed in a crouch, and all raised their arms simultaneously. The earth trembled fiercely and ripped from the ground. An enormous column of earth stretched high into the sky and cradled the explosive before it reached ground level.

Ezra stared, waiting for the inevitable, but beside a hollow _burst_ and a few shards of earth exploding from the raised column, everything stayed confined and reinforced.

The troops celebrated by throwing fire blasts and pieces of earth into the sky above.

Ezra was not so quick to rejoice, feeling the unmistakable sense of danger at his back.

He turned away from the front lines, back toward the train tracks, and back toward the warrior barracks and tents. A similar cylindrical explosive fell from the sky, indicating there was another warship that had traveled past the front lines. It would be on its way to the capital without anyone to stop it. On its way there, it would destroy their only means of transportation.

Ezra sprinted forward, knowing the earth Elementals were distracted with the larger threat near the front lines.

He inhaled deeply, gathering the Cold and embracing its mischievous and playful greeting. The air dropped in temperature across the battlefield and fog started to hover just above the ground. Ezra glided forward and harnessed the ancient power of the Cold, tunneling it forward and replicating a similar structure as the earth Elementals had created.

The ice emerged from the ground and twirled its way into the sky, wrapping avidly around the explosive until it was encased under several layers of unyielding ice. Entirely deaf to the shouts of approval and awe, Ezra advanced quicker, peering up into the sky with a considering gleam.

In a flurry of black feathers, Skanda flew in front of Ezra’s face, proudly boasting the flaming, burning branch clenched between his talons. He spiraled into the air and Ezra tracked his position with honed eyes, his fingers clenching readily at his sides. Sachiel and Josiah moved closer, inquiring after something, but Ezra’s focus was entirely on Skanda.

Through the clouds, he saw a faint light ignite and spread, before promptly and quickly extinguishing.

It was enough for Ezra to pinpoint a location.

He threw his arm back and aimed toward the invisible aircraft. The icicle that soared through the air was massive in length, its spearhead lethally sharp. For good measure, Ezra threw two more into the skies after the first, staggering them all in order to puncture the inflated fabric that carried the warship.

“Ravens,” Sachiel murmured deliberately. “Who knew they were so well-trained?”

“Very well-trained,” Josiah agreed as they watched the enormous aircraft corkscrew uncontrollably from the skies and descend to the ground.

Ezra braced himself as the aircraft came spiraling in their direction, ready in case it came too close. There were far too many explosives on that aircraft to let it crash unattended into the ground. “Josiah! Set fire to it while it’s in the sky!”

Josiah was already moving forward, assaulting the descending ship with flame after flame. It took several attempts, but finally, the aircraft caught fire and burst into hundreds of pieces. Ezra erected an ice barrier, protecting them from the fiery debris that rained down on top of them. Several pieces burned through the ice, but they were easily avoidable as they landed at their feet in unimpressive, extinguished scraps.

Once the danger passed, Ezra moved out of the ice shelter and gazed into the skies.

Upon witnessing the several white-clad figures descend eerily from the burning skies, Ezra unsheathed his spear and twirled it around until he received proper grip. Unexpectedly, a forced wave of dizziness, disorientation, and fear hit him hard, yet he managed to suppress it enough to stand tall. He recognized he was experiencing Kartikeya’s power and supremacy over the battlefield. 

While Ezra had enough willpower to abolish Kartikeya’s influence, other men—weaker men—would not be so fortunate. Despite their initial celebration of downing four aircrafts, they were far from victory and only now just facing the true threat.

Kartikeya had another wave planned for Concordia by unleashing the Eurus warriors and delivering a crippling wave of vulnerability to his enemies. It was enough to shake the wits of the Concordia and Terra warriors as their enemies descended upon them with revitalized vigor.

As Ezra shifted in preparation of the falling Eurus warriors, a thick rope of lightning crossed the skies, illuminating the clouds for miles.

It was a warning from a distracted Agni.

Ezra felt his resolve nearly crumble.

For that quick blink of light was enough to reveal several more warships hovering on the horizon and hundreds of men suspended within the clouds.

*** * * ***

“They are immune to our weapons. Even the weapons crafted during Yama’s regime to expel daemons and Syphons cannot deflect the Pretas.”

“Several casualties have been reported, Your Majesty.” A heavy pause sounded before he continued, “Most of them... half-eaten.”

“Property damage is widespread. The portals were not concentrated in one place, but rather across Elisium as a whole. We cannot extinguish the portals and they continue to release more creatures.”

“There are settlements far more susceptible to the attacks which are suffering with contamination and destruction.”

Appearing nearly disinterested with the unfavorable and worrisome reports, Indra observed the mortal realm with an austere eye. 

Tvastr had yet to descend on the Reaper and his mortals. Per Indra’s earlier conversation with his older brother, Tvastr was assigned the task of creating turmoil and desperation for the Reaper.

The objective was to even the playing field between Ezra and himself. However, the timing had to be just right. Too much destruction to the mortal realm would only enrage the Reaper to the point of being unmanageable. He would have nothing to lose by refusing to assist Indra. Too little destruction and the Reaper would remain just as headstrong. 

They would eventually need something from the other.

As it stood, Indra was still at a disadvantage.

But not for much longer.

Unexpectedly, the doors to the throne room swung open. The warriors immediately stood at attention when they identified the intimidatingly beautiful goddess making her way assuredly down the aisle. In a flurry of gold and black drapery, Shachi glided forward without rewarding the flustered warriors with any sort of regard. Regardless of her dismissive and aloof conduct, they all bowed low to the Queen of Gods, always in awe of her allurement. 

Indra’s hand uncurled from beneath his chin and he lazily waved his hand over the imagery of the mortal realm. The enchantment disappeared.

“Shachi.”

“You cannot pull your eyes from the mortal realm these days, Indra,” she remarked lowly. “Just what has caught your attention?” As she ascended the high staircase to her throne, she moved aside her cut gown and revealed a slender leg. “Or more appropriately, _who_ has caught your attention? Shall I be jealous?”

“It would please me to see you jealous, Shachi. While you are the Goddess of Beauty, Jealousy, and Rage, you have not demonstrated the latter two attributes since Vayu.” Indra refocused on the neglected warriors and stood from his throne. “Gather the other warriors,” he instructed as he moved past his consort and descended the stairs. “And wait for my call to ground in the mortal realm.” 

He watched as they exited the throne room before turning his gaze to Shachi.

As she lowered herself to her throne, her incandescent golden eyes keenly observed him. “I haven’t seen Pretas in centuries. They are quite the destructive nuisance.” Her lips pursed with a faint smile. “When Agni wishes to extract vengeance for his lover, he certainly knows how to play.” 

She tracked his expression readily and Indra masked his ire with neutrality. 

“That he does.”

Screams suddenly reverberated across the palace walls and Indra withheld a sigh.

There were far too many civilians in his halls. Far too many threats near valuable resources and relics. 

A Preta unexpectedly phased through one of the walls of the throne room. Its sunken eyes focused on Indra and Shachi, and with renewed bloodlust, it raced forward. The king and queen remained remarkably calm and let it come within reaching distance. Indra taunted it with his proximity before he tapped the end of his staff against the floor. A flash of white was enough to send the Preta screaming and sprinting away to wreak havoc elsewhere.

Disgusting, vile creatures. They were foul and odorous.

A repulsive stain across Elisium.

Briefly, as Indra’s thoughts centered around the mortal realm, his exhilaration over a specific scene he’d witnessed momentarily distracted him from the conflict at hand. As tempting as it would be to recollect and savor the memory, Indra tucked it away for later, well aware of Shachi’s penetrating observation.

Vayu would be displeased with the turnout of the mortal realm dilemma, but Indra would be receiving his Reaper in turn. 

Shachi crossed her legs and listened as the screams resumed near the visitor’s hall. “How will you go about fixing this without appearing meek before Agni?” 

This time, Indra did not veil his expression. “It is not Agni who you need to concern yourself with, Shachi, but rather his keeper.” He clasped his staff close and smiled distantly. “It is time Elisium claims its Reaper.” 


	10. Mikhail Zale Talise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge, **HUGE** thanks to ~~The Battle Beta Guru~~ Fae/CaramelRaven for editing the chapter!! Honestly, this chapter wouldn't have turned out the way it did without her great suggestions. When she's around, there better not be any slacking with battle scenes. ♥

**10\. Mikhail Zale Talise  
**

Relentless winds razed the battlefield, tormenting the warriors who sought refuge from the descending Eurus army.

Tents ripped from their restraints and soared across the meadow, outpacing the men sprinting wildly for cover. Warriors took running leaps and slid their way into the trenches. Others were picked up mid-stride by the wind and mercilessly tossed through the air. The wind swallowed their shrieks as they landed awkwardly on legs or necks.

One man was flung on top of an exposed tent spike and skewered through the torso.

The ground trembled fiercely as earth Elementals covered themselves and their comrades with rocky layers of protection. But their resistance only encouraged the shrieking wind. Focusing obstinately on the rocky barriers, the tenacious winds collapsed the earth, crushing the individuals who remained prone and defenseless beneath.

Ezra watched the proceedings through displeased eyes.

He, Sachiel, and Josiah were the furthest ones from the front lines. In that respect, they should have been safe from the descending Eurus Empire. But as Ezra craned back his head, he spied the sheer number of white-clad warriors dropping from the clouds above them. The winds were just as fierce—just as lethal—here as they were near the front lines.

Their enemy was not congregated in one area.

Rather, they were surrounding them entirely. 

Once they grounded, Ezra and his group would be excruciatingly outnumbered.

The wind yanked him violently. He dug his heels into the ground and went blind as dirt and debris caught in his eyes. While the obtrusions did not bother his mortal corpse as it would have if he’d been alive, it still impaired his vision. Someone grabbed his shoulder from behind, grounding him and themselves. The wind pummeled down like fists, irritatingly persistent and suffocating.

Anyone would find it difficult to take air into their lungs under the onslaught.

Ezra slammed his spear into the ground, admitting defeat by constructing ice walls. The walls boxed the three men inside, finally offering a reprieve from the assault. Leaning against the shaft of his spear, Ezra kept his eyes on the walls. Several areas cracked under the winds. He reinforced them when needed, refusing to have it collapse and impale them with ice shards.

A quiet tension settled across the trio.

They were easy and vulnerable prey.

And they’d be surrounded.

By unleashing the winds across the battlefield, the Eurus Empire destroyed any chance Concordia and Terra had at being prepared for their arrival. When they touched ground, they would be greeted to the sight of a cowering, trapped army who could do nothing to prevent themselves from being surrounded, and, in most cases, blind to the approaching threat.

A pair of boots landed on top of the ice box.

Ezra’s attention honed predatorily. His fingers tightened around his spear in preparation.

Another Eurus warrior landed next to his comrade.

And then another.

It was an inviting platform. A hailing and irresistible perch for the grounding Eurus warriors who remained ignorant to the true threat inside the box.

In addition to above, blurry, white-clad figures also congregated outside the walls, spurring Sachiel and Josiah to shift readily. Muffled voices sounded. Someone pounded a fist against the ice box. Others pressed close. Above, a spear nearly drove through the ice. Ezra watched diligently as they tugged the spear from the ice and tried again.

So, they wanted to get inside?

A conniving grin stretched across Ezra’s face.

He could help with that.

Pressed close or stooped down low, the Eurus warriors were suddenly assaulted with ice spikes that shot out from the box. The barbed projectiles embedded into the flesh of men and women, hooking and holding them prisoner against the box. Screams and a chorus of shrieks assaulted Ezra’s senses as he gazed up, watching the ice turn a murky red.

Warm, thick liquid dripped on his upturned face. He raised a slow arm, drawing the attention of the two men at his back. Their anticipation was palpable and brimming.

And so was Ezra’s.

He threw down his arm and the ceiling and the walls broke away from the structure and expelled outward. The walls accelerated quickly, mowing down the surrounding Eurus warriors. The roof—still decorated with hooked and bloodied warriors—remained suspended in the air as the trio used the chance to escape.

Focusing ahead, Ezra considered one of the ice walls as it hit a standstill, teetering against the sheer mound of bodies underneath it. 

An idea struck. 

Ezra began sprinting toward the teetering wall. 

The platform of ice followed him overhead. 

_Do not leave your feet._

Sprinting up the collapsing wall, Ezra soared off the top. While in midair, he threw down the ceiling, volleying it toward the group of warriors in his way. Those skilled enough to avoid it were Ezra’s first opponents.

Landing in a crouch, Ezra bounded to his feet and engaged them in close range combat.

They wielded bladed staffs, a suitable and compatible weapon against Ezra’s spear.

Several of them were exceptional competition, spurring Ezra to rise up and surpass them. He met their attacks with equal fortitude, wielding the spear as if it were a weapon he’d been training with since a novice. The weight was beautiful. The flexibility and range of movement wide and encompassing. He had more opportunity to switch dominant hands quickly and faultlessly.

He slashed a woman’s knees, dropping her, before slitting her throat.

Scrambling backward, he entertained a furious Eurus man by trading hits before Ezra smashed his spear against the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He then slammed the staff underneath the man’s chin, sending him collapsing backward with a fractured skull.

When the man fell, Ezra caught sight of the expansive battlefield. 

His eyes widened.

It was utter chaos. Everyone was engaged in ferocious battle whether it be Elemental against Elemental or non-Elementals battling against each other. The air seemed dry with ancient power as the battlefield implemented gifts from the gods. The sporadic flames shed light on the water being flung through the air and the earth that disrupted the ground.

A man on fire sprinted across Ezra’s path. He snapped his attention behind him, spying Josiah as the man turned an opponent’s weapon into a glowing ember. The Eurus man dropped it with a pained yelp, permitting Josiah to plunge his sword into the man’s chest. 

Behind Josiah, Sachiel loomed with a sinful grin.

Battle honor and pride be damned, he destroyed his opponents by ripping the water from their bodies and dropping them as dehydrated husks.

In addition to his water Element, Sachiel struck down the Eurus warriors with his quick and inexorable staff. He lingered near Josiah’s vulnerable side to protect the stubborn Igni Lord: a man who did not truly belong on the battlefield just yet, given his recent disability, but one who had accompanied Ezra out of some sort of warped family allegiance.

Ezra admired both men immensely right then.

Refocusing on his own opponents, Ezra’s strikes and momentum steadily increased in both speed and energy. He couldn’t remember feeling this _good_ in a long time. His revitalized energy thrummed beneath his mortal corpse and he realized it was his god form reverberating with amplified vigor. It took Ezra only a brief moment to realize where this strengthening power originated from.

His namesake.

 _Death_.

There was death encompassing all around him. It did not matter if these deaths were allies or enemies.

He recalled Dushyanta—the God of Enmity—growing more powerful when mortals had experienced heightened enmity.

Ezra was experiencing the same thing.

And all of it was invigorating and heady.

As he inhaled the destruction and power, bloodlust obscured and dulled his consciousness. Unbeknown to Ezra, as he spun the spear, the staff’s engravings of the wolf emitted a warm glow. 

Taking full advantage of his battle high, Ezra eviscerated his opponents.

Some attempted to draw the air from his wasted and dead lungs and Ezra countered it by driving an icicle up their groin or spine and abruptly ending their life.

The more warriors dropped around him, the greater his viciousness grew. And the greater his viciousness grew, the more his patience wore thin with the mortal souls surrounding him. The way they thrummed. The way they stimulated that familiar, irritating thud behind his eyes. They’d tormented him for months and he was just now able to do something about it.

He extinguished their lights.

Permanently.

Unlike the previous mortals he’d killed in the past—when his God of Justice disposition absorbed the impressions of their lives—it appeared, when he was in this state, he cared more about ending a mortal’s life and less about judging it.

One mortal landed a good, solid hit across Ezra’s face with her staff, nearly indenting his skull with the force of it. If he’d been mortal, he would have surely dropped instantly from the head trauma. Ezra turned slowly toward the wide-eyed Eurus woman before swiftly thrusting his arm forward.

His real arm—his godly arm—emerged from his corpse and plunged straight through the mortal’s chest. His fingers curled around the warm, living soul before ripping it from the woman’s body. The Eurus woman jerked oddly, her eyes turning vacant and lifeless. She only dropped when Ezra released the soul, her body crumpling like a ragdoll.

Ezra barely had enough time to block an overhead strike with his spear.

Recognizing Ezra as the largest threat on the battlefield, three air Elementals encircled him and he suddenly found himself under the assault of winds coming from three different directions.

Ezra’s legs were twisted one way, his torso the opposite way, and his neck was forced in an entirely different direction. He went down cumbersomely, the sound of his bones snapping loud and unnerving to his ears. His eyes rolled to the side, spying a leg bone breaking through his pant trousers.

An impressive feat, considering how cold his skin was.

He jerked abruptly to his feet, terrifying the air Elementals enough to send them fleeing.

Jerking his neck back into proper place, he smirked and reached for their retreating forms. Ice hands broke through the ground and grabbed their ankles, tripping them in midstride. The ice hands soon grew claws. The claws grew hooks. With unsympathetic bloodthirstiness, they plunged into their victims’ skin and bodies, tearing and ripping.

Cries of outrage resonated in his eardrums as even more Eurus warriors descended on him.

Ezra turned with a casual flourish and raised his spear. With a broken body, he ran to meet his new opponents.

Without fault, he continued to annihilate his enemies. The pile of defeated opponents grew large enough that he had to move and continue his onslaught elsewhere. As he fought through the crowd of Eurus men and women, an alien presence in his mind suddenly grabbed hold of him. Surprised at the jarring interruption from his battle concentration, his shoulders shifted defensively in response.

A moment later, he realized it was Agni touching their soul bond and monitoring his status. Upon recognizing Ezra’s battle lust, Agni’s side of the bond secreted waves of pleasure and satisfaction.

Ezra would have words with Agni later about boundaries during battle.

That had been far too jarring.

“All very impressive, Reaper,” a voice called through the throng of moving bodies. “But what about a challenger more your speed?”

Ezra turned sharply. He spied a possessed Eurus man encased in a red-gold aura who, along with all the remaining Eurus warriors on the battlefield, suddenly lifted into the air with assistance from the spinning contraptions in their hands. A powerful gust of wind aided their ascension, the back-end draft lashing across the meadow and affecting the unfortunate warriors left behind.

He crouched down and braced himself against the powerful burst of wind.

Once he was able to stand without keeling over, he straightened and gazed around the battlefield.

His first observation was the number of prone bodies on the ground—mostly Eurus. His second observation was the sheer number of eyes—even from a distance away—turning and lingering in his direction. His battle lust diminished further upon the expressions of disbelief and fear on the faces of his allies.

He flicked his spear around, tucking it underneath his arm as he slowly approached Josiah and Sachiel. The wind was howling once again and the distant trees to the north were all extinguished from their earlier flames. He didn’t know if Agni and Vayu were still combating, but it appeared as if Vayu had manipulated the surroundings to his favor.

A sense of unease washed through him as he examined the battlefield void of living enemies.

He quickened his pace.

“They wanted us distracted!” Ezra called over the wind.

Sachiel and Josiah were the only two who did not watch him with wide-eyed ignorance. Sachiel’s complete nonchalance only confirmed Ezra’s initial suspicions about him.

Varuna was a bastard.

His attention was drawn to further down the battlefield where Gaia stood with Dunstan and Barth, all unscathed, all _alive_.

For now.

Ezra made an encompassing gesture to the skies with a gloved hand.

“Eliminate several of us, distract all of us, and put their aircrafts in proper place to—”

A deafening explosion cut off Ezra’s words. He lost his balance and collapsed to the ground, his corpse’s senses briefly turning black and jumbled. The ambiance of loss and death swelled in his chest and he knew, even without scrambling to his feet to look, that they’d just lost a significant amount of men and women. Before he could recover his wits, a second explosion sounded and then a third not too far from his position.

The ground shuddered and trembled.

Ezra turned his head from underneath his arm, observing a lightning vein flash blindingly through the air and strike an airship.

But Agni had Vayu on his tail.

And the Fire God wouldn’t be able to destroy the dozens of aircrafts hovering directly over them. And somewhere, Skanda was busy hunting and pursuing Kartikeya.

A suction of air slid over Ezra and he turned away from the front lines and toward the capital. Several enormous shadowy forms glided behind the clouds and approached Concordia’s stronghold. Ezra pressed his cheek against his arm and felt his resolve splinter. His eyes closed momentarily as he mourned the very same thing he fought obstinately to keep.

It was time to sever ties with the one and only life he’d ever known.

The explosive slicing through the air seemed different than the others in the sense that it was faster and emitted a peculiar, high-pitched sound upon descending. Ezra slid his eye open to watch its quick descent, his mind honing, his battle readiness sharpening. He pressed his palms into the ground and pushed himself to his feet, attempting to stop its momentum by wrapping it under a layer of ice as he’d done the previous one.

But it shredded through the ice as if it were mere parchment.

Panicking, Ezra turned his heel and sprinted toward the vast majority of the military members who were located toward the front lines. He used the power he’d cultivated during battle and channeled it to construct a towering wall of glimmering, thick ice. It erected with an eerie and spine-chilling groan, its power immense and profound as it arched and domed protectively over the Concordia and Terra warriors.

A distance away, Josiah took in the enclosing ice wall before whirling around and racing toward Ezra. Brilliant orange eyes beseeched him, his concerned expression the last thing Ezra focused on before the ice separated them.

Forever.

Ezra had only a split second to realize Sachiel stood next to him on the unprotected side of the barrier. The Unda man gazed at him serenely, as if accepting his fate alongside Ezra. His smile was gentle, knowing, and entirely at ease.

“I stand with you, My King. I will go where you lead.”

A strangled noise escaped Ezra when he acknowledged this was their farewell. He reached forward and grabbed Sachiel’s face securely between both hands. He forcibly turned the man around and pushed him onto the ground until his backside hit the long grass.

“You pretentious, beautiful mortal,” Ezra whispered hoarsely as he hovered above the pacified and content warrior. “It is not your time.”

He then kissed the man firmly while simultaneously shielding him with his body as the explosive erupted behind him.

The heat and light were blinding and lethal.

Using one last burst of energy, Ezra encased Sachiel in his own ice before nothingness enclosed him. A swallowing bout of obscurity and momentary loss of identity encompassed him before everything went dark.

  
  


*** * * ***

Skanda appeared behind the God of War just as the bright light vanished from the sky.

He soundlessly ascended the small hill and stared over Kartikeya’s shoulder. There was a towering ice structure that arched over the battlefield—or… what was remaining of the battlefield. Outside the dome of ice, there were deep craters across the meadow and nothing but dust, dirt, and scattered human remains stretching for miles. The view evoked sentiments of decay, eerie stillness, and stark silence.

Such a devastating contraption seemed unlikely for mortals to create and he wondered if Tvastr had anything to do with their warcraft advancements. Should any godly weapon be implemented by mortals…

The results could be catastrophic.

Gods had no right tampering with mortal wars. At least not to _this_ extent. To pass time? To play mortal and fight alongside other mortals? Yes. But not to completely annihilate them using unfair gains.

He turned to his… brother? His twin?

Kartikeya seemed unaware of Skanda’s veiled presence, his attention relentlessly pursuing the battlefields, most likely for the Reaper.

“Do you feel that?” Skanda inquired. Aside from the slight tightening of Kartikeya’s shoulders, the god remained entirely unaffected at Skanda’s sudden arrival. “That cold, humid air? The sense of unease and trepidation? You’re too young to have experienced it before, but that is the Reaper’s unfurling power. Quite the erroneous move thinking a war would only increase _your_ powers when death almost always trails its heels.”

Kartikeya finally turned and faced him.

It was cruel seeing his face worn by another.

His old face that was once warmly bronzed and flawless with glow and color.

Now it was just monochrome, cold, and cracked.

If he hadn’t heard Agni’s contemptuous comments about Kartikeya, Skanda may have hated the God of War just for existing. Instead, he pitied the young god. He pitied his brother’s lost relationship with a father who would have been his biggest supporter and mentor. Agni held no love for this god who was every bit his son as Skanda was, but who would only be seen as a poor imitator of the son he’d once lost.

“Erroneous move?” Kartikeya repeated with a grin. “No. This was very much intentional. You should know, when the Reaper’s powers grow, his influence across the living realm intensifies.”

His orange eyes lowered and stared deliberately at the long grass beneath their feet.

Skanda gave a cautionary glance down, observing the grass roots as they began losing color before turning a pale, shriveled yellow. The disease gradually made its way up to the tips of the grass, and soon, Skanda and Kartikeya stood upon a crispy, dead meadow. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the death of the vegetation spread further south, its path visible as it traveled toward civilizations.

Suddenly, a single dot of white fluttered down and landed on Skanda’s boot before melting away.

And then another.

He slowly looked up, staring at the flurry of snowflakes descending from the skies. The sight of the snowfall nearly took him back to darker days trapped beneath layers of torment and nightmares.

Pushing aside his ghosts, he refocused on Kartikeya as the god moved to speak again.

“I was never one for poetic irony,” he said, “but it really is beautiful knowing he’s destroying the same world he’s so desperate to save.”

The fledgling clearly held contempt for the Reaper on a more personal level than that of a simple adversary. There were several possible reasons for this, the most recent being Ezra’s ability to stand opposite Kartikeya during their last duel. 

The more likely reason being their father’s interest in the Reaper.

“There is nothing beautiful about unnecessary destruction,” Skanda replied. “Is that truly what you want? To destroy the mortal realm?”

“Destroy it? No. Reset it? Yes.” Kartikeya placed a hand on the pommel of his sword and subtly moved into a defensive stance. “Destruction is just the first step of that progression. The Reaper unleashes that annihilation just by _existing_ here. My thoughts on the matter are of no consequence when they are direct orders from the king.”

Over Kartikeya’s shoulder, Skanda spied the red-gold aura of the Reaper shoot up into the clouds. He yearned to tail him, having caught sight of Tvastr earlier and knowing the god was lurking nearby to engage Ezra while simultaneously trying to avoid catching Agni’s attention. His father remained to the north, occupied with a tenacious and stubborn Vayu.

“Being the God of War is not just about being a good warrior,” Skanda said. “It is about being the _master_ of wars.” Over Kartikeya’s head, a hulking shape fell ungracefully from the clouds. “In order to be a master of your art, you must establish your own principles, your own moralities. They cannot be an exact replica of the god you call _king_.”

Kartikeya was about to respond until he sensed the massive weight coming down behind him.

He turned, keeping a firm hand on his sword as he watched the enormous aircraft plummet towards the clearing not far from their location. Skanda and Kartikeya prepared to leap away from the imminent explosions, yet oddly enough, it did not erupt upon impact. The only explosion was the cloud of dirt that rose into the air as it crashed heavily into the ground.

A moment later, as the dust settled, Skanda identified the reason for the lack of fiery impact.

The entire aircraft was encased with thick ice.

Skanda grinned, but Kartikeya found no humor in the situation. The god growled and moved to leap into the skies, but Skanda was quicker. He withdrew his sword and placed the blade directly in front of his brother’s face.

“Do not. Your battle is with me.”

Kartikeya’s eyes honed in on the sword’s ricasso where the eagle was engraved. Ugly jealousy and rage darkened his expression.

“You—you are not fit to wield _His_ blade!” He reached for a glowing globe strapped to his holster and Skanda knew it was the same weapon used to expel Chitragupta. “My fight is with the Reaper. You are beneath me. All you creatures are.”

“You are at your strongest,” Skanda proclaimed calmly. “You won’t banish me with a simple device when the temptation to conquer me is so much stronger.” He turned Brahma’s blade until it rested horizontally to Kartikeya’s throat. “It must infuriate you. Being compared to me your whole existence. Knowing I was a failure to all of Elisium, yet still having our father prefer me over you.”

Though his words were unfair, he'd successfully pulled Kartikeya’s attention away from the Reaper.

The God of War’s hand changed directions and unsheathed his sword with an enraged lunge. Skanda shimmered backward, his form melting into the shadows before he reappeared behind Kartikeya. 

He slammed his boot against the god’s back and forced the fledgling onto the ground.

It was the same maneuver Ezra had executed during his duel with Kartikeya while in the Eurus Empire. He recalled how furious that had made the God of War and could only imagine how much more it would infuriate him to have it done twice.

Only, the youngling did not go down. He slammed his left hand into the ground to catch his fall and proceeded to cartwheel back to his feet and resume his attack. Skanda barely had time to dodge the strike coming at him.

They traded several hits, adapting to their opponent’s power and style. Skanda could feel the power thrumming from Kartikeya and knew this would not be an easy battle.

Not when the God of War stood in his natural environment, drawing off the power of his namesake.

* * * *

“What are you doing?” Indra loomed over the group of gathered warriors. “I told you to descend!”

“We’re unable to cross into the mortal realm, Your Majesty.”

“I dropped the barrier as soon as the order was given.” Their king breezed past them in a flurry of white robes to approach the massive stone archway. A colorful sheen swirled over the surface and Indra pressed his palm against it.

His hand hit a barrier.

He tapped the end of his staff against the ground and reached for the surface again.

His expression turned coolly impassive as his hand encountered the barrier once more.

He turned partially, staring at the ground with a deliberating expression. It appeared as if he were mulling over his options, quickly turning them over and deciding the best course of action. “Come.” He turned and moved aside his long cloak as he glided through the crowd of warriors. “Follow me. Quickly.”

* * * *

When Ezra came back to himself, he was hovering in the air without purpose, without intent, without a form. He first identified the dusty and snowy environment that seemed unfamiliar. There was no long, meadowed grass, no trees, and no discarded and rumpled tents. Everything was gone, turned to dust save for the large ice dome that seemed thin and melting in several areas.

Ezra refocused sharply as he remembered, looking toward the area he once stood with Sachiel. The ice encompassing Sachiel was mostly melted, revealing the blond-haired warrior who lay unconscious, but unscathed.

Next to Sachiel was a corpse of mostly bones, burnt flesh, and tattered clothing.

A golden spear lay next to the corpse, utterly unaffected with the explosion.

A surge of grief and mind-numbing sorrow welled up within Ezra as he stared at his useless mortal remains. The pain upon seeing his destroyed body was something he had not prepared himself for. It was something he had imagined would be difficult, but certainly not this agonizing. And instantly, upon recognizing Ezra’s suffocating sorrow, Agni’s presence was once again engulfing him, becoming stronger as he moved closer.

And with his approach came the fierce and tenacious winds.

Panicking over the Fire God’s nearing proximity, and fearing it would reflect poorly on his ability to stand alone, Ezra quickly buried his distress and descended back to the ground to grab the spear. He pointedly avoided looking at the prone corpse as well as Sachiel, quickly taking possession of the spear and turning it intangible.

Forcing himself to focus, he controlled his anger and grief and channeled it toward his objective.

Soaring through the heavy and blustery clouds, he bypassed several Eurus warriors boarding aircrafts. As he broke through the veil of clouds and hovered above the sky, he observed the situation. There were eight. Eight more aircrafts carrying warriors, explosives, and whatever god-awful invention they’d just unleashed across the battlefield. 

Harnessing his cold rage, Ezra reached the first aircraft that hovered over the battlefield.

He’d be damned if he allowed them to drop an explosive over the surviving warriors underneath the ice dome. 

His boots materialized first as he landed on the ledge of the basket that carried several dozens of Eurus warriors. The rest of his body followed suit as he grabbed the bar overhead and revealed himself to the mortals controlling the aircraft. He expected their heads or eyes to explode—as what typically transpired when a mortal looked upon an exposed god—but the effect was far more subtly sinister.

As they gradually turned to take note of his godly presence, their entire bodies stiffened in fear. Their eyes widened before they dissolved into a shower of dust, leaving behind a faint, quick impression of a skeleton before that too dissolved.

A blink later and he stared at an empty aircraft that had once harbored several warriors.

All destroyed in a single breath as a result of his unveiled presence.

Ice steadily roved over and encased the entire aircraft, wrapping several times around the basket carrying explosives before Ezra extinguished the aircraft’s flame and gas and let it fall from the sky. He jumped backward from the ledge of the carrier, allowing his body to freefall into a backflip, before turning intangible and moving on to the next unsuspecting aircraft.

He did the same for that one.

And the two after that.

There had to be well over a hundred mortals he’d destroyed simply by revealing himself. The sense of power and supremacy struck Ezra hard and it made him feel nauseous.

Chitragupta had been right.

Ezra did not belong participating in the mortal realm wars. If this continued, Ezra and Kartikeya could destroy thousands of mortals without even the slightest bit of effort.

As he stood upon the fifth aircraft and extinguished the gas and flame, he set his sights forward, toward the three remaining aircrafts that were well on their way to the capital. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he spied a lone figure standing upon a neighboring aircraft. Clutching the bars of his descending aircraft, Ezra watched as the deity swung his spear lazily.

The god then motioned for Ezra with a flourish of his weapon.

A challenge.

Releasing the overhead bar, Ezra suspended briefly in the air before freefalling into a plummet. He embraced that sick, dangerous thrill as it spasmed through his chest and stomach. He then turned intangible and the thrill jerked to a complete stop.

Unexpectedly, a violent gust of wind shoved Ezra off his trajectory, carrying him a distance away and dizzying and disorientating him. Up and down became a twisted web of confusion as he rolled across the sky. The pressure swelling in his head was so great, he nearly fainted with the lightheadedness.

A streak of lightning suddenly lashed across the clouds and the manipulations tormenting Ezra abruptly ended.

He hovered in place momentarily, regathering his bearings.

Vayu clearly had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Ezra had initially believed, once a god turned intangible in the mortal realm, they’d become invisible to other gods just as they were to mortals. Ezra—being the Reaper—would still see their red-gold auras, but to others, they’d be undetectable. 

That clearly was not the case. 

The deity—Vayu?—tracked Ezra’s approach with brimming anticipation and pivoted at his place at the edge of the aircraft.

Pale eyes cut through the dark, finding Ezra easily through the snowy sky. The god’s proud, conceited features reminded Ezra of a certain god-king, their facial features nearly identical, but a few differences set them apart. The eyebrows were not as prominent, the hair clearly much darker, and the stature not quite as tall.

The relation was unmistakable, however.

And as Ezra studied the god, he was suddenly hit with why Chitragupta looked familiar at times.

He too resembled Indra.

Materializing before the dark-haired deity, Ezra considered the god further. He wasn’t as broad in the shoulders as Skanda and Agni but rather appeared quite lithe. His hair was partly gathered back and extended just past his shoulders with texture that was as straight as the spear he held aloft.

The god greeted Ezra with a grin. “Reaper.”

Ezra took a step forward, testing the resistance of the aircraft’s fabric. There was not much give. It was surprisingly firm beneath his weight. “Do I get the pleasure of knowing your name?”

“We’ve shared pleasure before, fledgling. Twice, actually.”

Ignoring the clever insinuation, Ezra suddenly realized his identity. The answer should have dawned on him immediately. It was not Vayu, but rather—

“Tvastr.”

Tvastr placed the bottom of his spear against the aircraft and clasped his hands around the shaft.

Shifting forward, he ran his eyes lazily down Ezra’s lithe and sprightly form. A wry grin marked his expression as he leaned indolently against his weapon. “Unfortunately, as much as I’d savor the opportunity to share pleasure with you a third time, I have the awkward task of destroying your mortal capital.” He pushed off from his spear and moved one foot behind the other. “No hard feelings, I hope. King’s orders.”

Ezra spun his spear until he held it at the ready. “Considering victory is not in your favor, I assure you there will be no hard feelings on my end.”

“Perhaps it's best you reexamine the situation, then.” His pale eyes lifted over Ezra’s head. “Further ahead of these three, there are two aircrafts already approaching the capital and several more aircrafts further east to finish off your military.”

Ezra made a beginner’s mistake.

He turned to look further west, back toward the capital to spy the aircrafts he’d missed.

Tvastr came at him like a ferocious hunter. Ezra’s skin prickled where the spear scantily brushed his cheek before he turned intangible and escaped the top of the warcraft. Tvastr quickly followed suit, chasing him through the sky. 

Ezra flew faster, determined to find the aircrafts he’d overlooked earlier. If what Tvastr said was true, they could be at the capital already, hovering over the palace and unleashing ruin.

Ezra could not imagine losing Brooke and his—his little one like…

Cyra.

A sharp pain unexpectedly carved into Ezra’s side before he could make it far.

Somehow, the spear Tvastr wielded had the ability to turn tangible enough to puncture through Ezra’s incorporeal form. It emitted a sinister red glow as it came for Ezra again. He turned away and Tvastr turned with him, sticking to him like glue and pursuing him relentlessly. 

They twisted and coiled around each other.

He couldn’t lose the damn god or his spear, and the pain in his side was beginning to affect his focus and speed.

Seething, he flew straight into the closest aircraft’s passenger carrier. If he was forced to dwell in their proximity, he might as well terminate them. He stumbled through the throng of Eurus warriors, turning physical and in doing so destroying the men aboard as they turned to look at him.

Undaunted, Tvastr leapt through the cloud of mortal ashes and stabbed at Ezra with the spear. Ezra sloppily managed to dodge just in time, reaching up to extinguish the gas before leaping over the edge of the aircraft.

Tvastr…

Tvastr was something else entirely.

He was a savage.

It was in the spasmodic way he moved. 

It was in the way his eyes sparkled crazily.

Bounding across the carrier in a single stride, the dark-haired god vaulted over the edge of the railing at the same time as Ezra and chucked his spear at his descending form. Ezra, who was trying to freeze the explosives in the aircraft carrier, quickly turned intangible and dodged beneath the aircraft to finish his task.

Only, the spear followed him by making a sharp turn below the carrier.

Cursing the capability of godly weapons, Ezra shot back up, the aircraft only half-frozen, but sufficiently destroyed as it gradually lost height and began to sink.

He landed on top of a neighboring warcraft, barely obtaining proper stance before blocking the spear’s attack with his own. Tvastr’s weapon shot away from him and smacked the gloved palm of its owner, who now appeared opposite of Ezra. 

“So, he does know how to wield the spear.” Tvastr lined up and lowered into an offensive stance. “I was beginning to suspect the god on the battlefield, and the one who stands before me now, were two different warriors.”

Ezra pressed his palm against his open wound, grateful, at least, for the lack of poison. But it was a small victory, given who his opponent was and how skilled. 

Tvastr lunged.

Ezra lowered defensively and held position, letting the older deity make the first move. The hit that came at his neck was sharp and fast, but Ezra blocked it and blocked the two consecutive hits after that. It was the fourth hit that had him inelegantly scrambling back to deflect as it turned abruptly and aimed for his lower torso. 

The god was strong.

Brutally strong.

Ezra thought Kartikeya had been strong, but Tvastr was in an entirely different league. Ezra was forced on the defensive, focusing all his concentration and strength on parrying Tvastr’s persistent attacks. His pulse hammered painfully in his chest and throat as he shuffled across the aircraft with Tvastr in hot pursuit, somehow managing to stay on his feet despite their obvious difference in skill levels.

He may have received a burst of strength and power from the encompassing death around him, but that did not automatically make him a better spearman. Stronger, yes, but not suddenly better. He was much more capable and skilled with a sword, at least against an opponent as accomplished as Tvastr.

Lightning suddenly blinded Ezra. 

Agni’s presence neared. 

A single flame dropped near Ezra’s boot and he glanced at it distractedly.

He could sense Agni looming nearby. Watching. Waiting. Expecting _more_ from him in that silent and unobtrusive way he had mastered over the years. Ezra turned the shaft of the spear and blocked Tvastr’s hit, realizing, as he looked once more at the dying flame, that Agni was trying to tell him something.

_You have ice. Use it._

Harnessing the Cold, Ezra refocused on Tvastr.

With renewed fortitude, Ezra gradually changed the tempo of their duel. As if reflecting its master’s resolve, the snow obscuring the skies began to fall in earnest, picking up speed and becoming a nuisance to Tvastr. Wrapping himself with the Cold, Ezra’s skin began to harden, creating enough of an armor to make blade penetration a challenge.

Encouraged, now that he was not as vulnerable, Ezra stopped focusing so much on defense.

He no longer tensed before Tvastr’s every hit. Rather, he loosened his limbs and channeled his natural agility and speed. Instead of shuffling backward, he shuffled forward with short, concise steps, blocking Tvastr’s rapidly swinging spear before delivering a hit to the god’s opposite side with a quick _thwack._ Tvastr shoved Ezra’s spear away and lunged for his open torso.

Spinning sideways to avoid the lunge, Ezra twirled his spear and diverted the attack with a backhanded block and proceeded to swing it back around the opposite direction to nearly take off Tvastr’s head.

The god stumbled backward, his first major misstep of their duel.

His pale eyes were wide and wicked. “I _like_ it, Reaper. No need to be shy. Give it to me again.”

Muffling his amusement, Ezra attacked him with a flurry of hits and turned the ground beneath their feet into a slippery sheen of ice. Only, Tvastr blocked his attacks and the ice beneath his feet melted. It took Ezra only a brief glimpse to notice the dark leather armor across Tvastr’s body. While the armor did not illuminate like Kartikeya’s had, Ezra suspected it worked the same.

He’d be immune to the ice attacks.

Ice ravens emerged from the puddles Tvastr left in his wake. Ezra cast his hand in the sky and the birds took off, soaring around Tvastr and distracting the deity enough for Ezra to take advantage. As he slammed his weapon against Tvastr’s knees, they traded positions. Facing west, Ezra got an eyeful of the gods dueling on the adjacent aircraft.

Momentarily taken aback, he watched Agni aggressively duel another god. Though his opponent was impressive, the God of Fire still appeared far more superior. There were ropes of lightning encompassing his blade and Agni looked every bit the hunter Ezra knew he’d be with his tightly coiled attacks and rapid lunges.

The sight nearly took Ezra’s breath away with awe and excitement.

_And arousal._

During Ezra’s moment of distraction, the last of the ice ravens were shattered to pieces and, seizing the opportunity, Tvastr turned and struck Ezra point-blank with his spear. The god appeared momentarily surprised that he had landed such a direct hit until Ezra's image shattered into a thousand mirror-like shards of ice.

Tvastr abruptly realized the illusion and dropped to the ground to avoid the hit he felt coming from behind. Rolling onto his back, he misdirected Ezra’s stab.

Ezra’s lunge ended up puncturing the aircraft’s fabric just a hair's breadth from Tvastr’s face. A high-pitched whistle broke through the night as the air _whooshed_ out of the aircraft.

Undeterred, the older god leapt to his feet and traded hits with Ezra while they danced across the deflating aircraft. Ezra fed off the stimulation he had absorbed from observing Agni as well as the savagery emitting from Tvastr. While he did not succeed in taking Tvastr by surprise again, he managed to stand his ground.

It suddenly dawned on him. 

Tvastr no longer challenged him. Rather, he had lulled Ezra into a comfortable rhythm. His intentions were to distract him from the capital.

Agni seemed to have drawn the same conclusion.

An explosion sounded, drawing Ezra’s attention over his shoulder. He spied Agni’s aircraft going up in flames.

Out of nowhere, a lightning strike hit the aircraft Tvastr and Ezra currently occupied. Not needing anymore forewarning, Ezra sprinted off the side of the warcraft and plunged to the depths below, Tvastr close behind. He just barely passed the aircraft before several explosions sounded.

“You don’t relent, do you?” Ezra called as Tvastr descended upon him. They fell through the sky together and wrangled briefly, both still in their physical forms. “Others told me I’m irresistible, I never realized the extent.”

Ezra blocked the hit coming at him with his spear, but they both twisted away from each other. Before they could separate too far, Tvastr grabbed his ankle and they spiraled together through the skies.

Ezra was just about to touch the man’s red-gold aura—intrigued by it just as much as the mortal souls—before a plethora of bodies suddenly encompassed him. They weighed him down, separated him from Tvastr, and dropped him from the skies. He fell from the air, held and imprisoned by several arms. A sense of confusion tormented his senses and he found himself landing on the ground.

Gods and goddesses—all in ivory and gold uniform—restrained him until he was forced to his knees.

Agni’s presence descended like an ominous shadow.

With a vicious snarl, he materialized near the group of restraining deities and at once, they were all blasted off their feet by a ring of lightning that resembled a circling serpent. The air turned dry, and flames roared to life to encircle Ezra protectively.

Through the flames, Ezra saw the distant capital currently under siege.

His stomach plummeted with horror as he watched a fiery explosion illuminate the night. He lunged in that direction, his heart in his throat.

The entire world suddenly trembled and lost color.

He’d experienced this sensation once before. The sense of frozen time.

Yamuna had once stopped everything around her when she’d grounded to reprimand Ezra from consuming a god. Color had bled from his surroundings then, too. In the distance, near the capital, the fiery explosion stopped spreading and everything turned motionless. Even the snow from above stopped falling as the mortal realm was cast in still silence.

“It would be ideal for everyone to _calm_ down.” A conceited voice cut through the disorientation. The form making his way through the crowd was serene and unperturbed given the current state of his wounded warriors. “Things will progress much more smoothly and quickly.”

The flames surrounding Ezra extinguished, but Agni remained a solid presence beside him with his drawn sword. Several more forms materialized around the area, and Ezra observed Kartikeya arrive, as well as Tvastr and the god Agni had dueled earlier—Vayu, Ezra suspected.

The cold presence of Skanda appeared behind Ezra and Agni, standing with them as they faced Indra.

“We are both under time constraints,” Indra began gravely. His staff glowed an ethereal silver, and where it connected with the ground, glowing streaks veined and fractured across the ground. “I am sure you’re aware there is a situation in Elisium that requires your attention.”

Indra’s gaze cut through the others and focused intently on Ezra.

He’d known this had been coming as soon as Agni warned him about the possibility. However, Ezra’s mind was still foggy with disorientation and a wide range of emotions. It felt as if he were not quite here, in person, but rather observing as an outsider. Nevertheless, it was vital he pulled himself together in order to present himself as a formidable adversary.

Or at least one who could string together a few words.

“I won’t even entertain the thought of negotiations when—”

“When your mortal realm is under attack,” Indra finished for him knowingly, his eyes focused unblinkingly on Ezra. The subtle glow from his staff accentuated the paleness of his face and illuminated his patrician features. “Kartikeya. Tvastr. Eliminate the immediate threat from Concordia’s capital.” There was a slight hesitation. “ _Now_. I cannot hold this enchantment forever.”

They disappeared abruptly while the dark-haired god—Vayu—moved forward.

Agni suddenly prowled forward in response, spurring the semi-recovered warriors to tense and lower defensively. They eyed the golden-haired deity warily, yet Ezra noticed the equal parts of respect, awe, and fear. He empathized with them in that regard. Agni carried the power and strength of a warrior who'd made armies cower before him. It was unfortunate Ezra hadn’t been able to watch his battle against Vayu.

Watching two of the Four combat would have been remarkable to witness.

“What ‘situation’ in Elisium requires the Reaper’s attention?” Vayu demanded, entirely overlooking Ezra and focusing on Indra and Agni. 

“Pretas.”

“Pretas,” Vayu repeated after Indra before turning to look at Agni. “You endanger our world and risk the lives of deities just to stop the destruction of the mortal realm?”

Ezra slammed his spear into the ground, drawing Vayu’s attention. It took him a brief moment to control the fury in his tone before he could speak. “How is the life of a few deities worth more than a whole realm of mortal lives?”

Vayu stared. “Says the Reaper who just killed hundreds of mortals.”

Two explosions sounded in the distance. Ezra watched from the corner of his eye as the aircrafts above the distant capital went up in flames. “I assumed I was helping you get what you wanted,” Ezra started neutrally. “You wanted to destroy your mortals. After tonight, we’ve all made significant progress in making that become a reality.”

“You cheeky little—”

“Vayu,” Indra interrupted with tight warning before turning back to Ezra. “You would not negotiate when your capital was under active threat. Now that the threat has been destroyed, shall we commence?”

Agni turned and caught Ezra’s eyes.

This was finally it, wasn’t it?

Ezra nodded once, curling both hands around the spear’s shaft.

Indra’s eyes tracked Ezra’s hand that remained covered with the scarlet glove. “It really is quite simple.” Tvastr and Kartikeya both materialized behind Indra. “You accompany me to Elisium to alleviate the threats to our realm, right now, and in return, I will agree to keep the mortal realm intact.”

“It’s a start, but I want more,” Ezra said bluntly. “I want you to remove the Eurus Empire from Concordia’s territories. Tonight. I want them to surrender to the Concordia and Terra Kingdoms. I want Kartikeya to remove his influence from the Eurus Empire.”

Indra looked down and smiled thinly. “Is that all?”

“No.”

Just over Indra’s shoulders, Vayu’s attractive face creased with ugly antipathy.

“I want you to remove the lockdown. As well, I will not be forced to stay at the palace.”

Here, Agni cocked his head and made a noise of discontentment. “Of course not,” he murmured with his sharp eyes on Indra. “Whatever gave you that idea? You’ll be staying with me.”

Indra waved a careless hand. “Done.” He looked up at Ezra. “Do we have ourselves an agreement?”

Ezra looked down at the hand Indra extended. It had been offered to him before, yet the circumstances hadn’t been ideal at the time. He’d been prepared to leave the mortal realm that day, yet now, as he was faced with the same decision, he found himself panicking. He wasn’t prepared to leave. How could he be? Everything he wanted—needed—was here.

“I will need to get Chit first.”

Indra’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Chit…?”

“Chitragupta.”

The King of Gods lowered his hand, his expression still marginally dumbfounded. He then scoffed unexpectedly and looked at Agni, then to Skanda. “Go get your Chit.” Something peculiar crossed his expression as he turned and caught Kartikeya’s attention. “In the meantime, Kartikeya and Vayu will begin evacuating their mortals. They will also fetch me Prithvi.”

Ezra’s attention honed, wondering how Indra knew about Prithvi.

However, his curiosity didn’t last long, for his indecision distracted him. He was unsure of what had just transpired—what decisions were just made—and he was unsure of what was _about_ to transpire.

It was up to Agni to pull him away from Indra and lead him toward the palace.

*** * * ***

Goodbyes were something Ezra despised more than anything.

They were too final.

Too painful.

The room Ezra entered was dimly lit by the low flames inside the hearth. Despite the extremely late hour, the single guest of the expansive suites was still awake and reading by the fireplace. She’d been told to stay in place until she received word. A sick feeling weighed Ezra down as he hung suspended near the corner of the parlor. Agni’s and Skanda’s presences were close by—giving him a semblance of privacy—yet Ezra knew they’d hear and see if they wanted to.

Across the room, Chit animated, flapping his wings excitedly upon identifying Ezra’s presence. It was enough to startle the lone human occupant of the room.

Brooke stood from the armchair, looking first at the raven, then across the room, her expression quietly hopeful.

That quiet hope nearly broke him.

Ezra moved away from her, phasing into the bedroom suites that he’d avoided for over three months. Shyly, he hovered near the foot of the bed, staring at Calder’s restful features. Knowing he should not linger lest he influence the man’s condition further, Ezra allowed himself to drink in the image of his father. Still so young and ready to finally reclaim his kingdom from the scheming gods.

Ezra would see that he succeeded in that endeavor. 

Wanting—needing—to say so much, but unable to say anything at all, Ezra left the bedroom and moved toward Brooke.

Recognizing the forbidding atmosphere unfolding across the suites, Chitragupta quieted and watched through beady eyes as Ezra materialized behind Brooke. He slid a hand over her eyes, feeling her stiffen. He placed a consoling hand on her shoulder to calm her alarm. Her breathing hitched and she touched the hand over her eyes.

“Ezra?”

Sharp despair caught his throat.

He parted his lips, attempting to say the words he’d intended, but what came out was a shaky exhale. Brooke trailed her fingers across the back of his left hand, feeling for the wedding ring that was no longer there. Her own breathing caught as she recognized what this was. 

She sobbed once, holding on to his fingers as if it could anchor him in place. “Say it,” she whispered brokenly. “Say it, Ezra.”

Ezra closed his eyes and cried silently behind her.

He could feel her tears against his palm and he could feel the way her body trembled beneath his hold. She’d known this was coming, and if Ezra didn’t know how strong she truly was, he would have been incapable of leaving her behind. Regardless of her strength, regardless of her consent in all of this, an enormous amount of guilt and remorse still washed through him for putting her in this situation.

But she would have an incredible amount of support.

She would have their _son_.

Ezra pressed his face close to her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her, before he moved his mouth near her ear. It took several attempts before he could croak out, “Mikhail,” he started unsteadily, “Mikhail Zale Talise.”

He disappeared from the room just as she began sobbing in earnest.

He didn’t know where he was going.

Anywhere but here—there—anywhere he couldn’t hear her cries reverberate through his head.

But her cries followed him anyway.

A consuming presence engulfed him, coiling around him as he escaped the palace walls. Ezra was forced to slow his pace as the presence urged him down and on top of one of the towers. Agni materialized and stood near the ledge of the tower, reaching out a hand. 

He was going to make Ezra _talk_ about this and Ezra didn’t want to _talk._

“Materialize.”

Emerging from the palace behind Ezra, Chit and Skanda soared through the skies, morphing into ravens and perching a distance away.

“We’re not leaving here until you reveal yourself.”

Ezra hovered, tempted to disobey, before he reluctantly turned tangible. He kept his back to Agni as he cupped his face to hide it all. Through his fingers, the tears fell readily. While his sobs were forced into silence, there was no stopping Agni from identifying the way his shoulders shook.

“I will teach you how to properly veil your presence from mortals so you can visit,” Agni said behind him. “This is not forever, Ezra.”

“It is and you know it. What will a few visits accomplish?” Ezra seethed into his hands. “In a blink of my eye, they’ll all be gone.” He gave a breathless laugh when he spied Cyra’s bracelet tied tightly around his wrist. “It’s like Cyra all over again. I’m willingly giving them all up.”

“You are willingly giving them up so they have a chance to live.” Agni moved closer despite Ezra tensing at his nearing proximity. A hand touched his side gently, near his wound. “There is no reason to fear this change. It is comfortable for you here, but you do not belong here anymore. It is time to go home.”

Ezra bowed his head and whispered brokenly, “I don’t even know where home is.”

“I hope you will someday consider home to be at my side.”

The words were enough to shock the despair from Ezra.

He turned, staring at Agni’s outstretched hand and then to his face. The god gazed at him steadily, somehow managing to soften the coils of bitter and _painful_ emotion in Ezra’s body. His attention dropped back down to the outstretched hand. 

Indra had offered the same hand to him twice with the very same intentions.

To bring him away from the mortal realm.

Faced with Indra’s hand, Ezra had experienced nothing short of panic and fear of the unknown. With Agni’s hand, there was still that fear, but somehow, it seemed manageable with the Fire God at his side.

Ezra released a careful breath before clasping Agni’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't follow me on Tumblr, and if you're interested, I made an Ezra moodboard a while back [HERE.](https://solemnitydreamer.tumblr.com/post/622491231324405760/immunity-moodboard-ezra-zale-talise-god-of-death). 
> 
> Also, I don't believe I ever linked Clamvt's wonderful Ezra work. You can see it [HERE.](https://clamvt.tumblr.com/image/620123449404358656) Please remember, you can always visit my [LiveJournal](https://epic-solemnity.livejournal.com/) where I upload ALL the fanart/moodboards/inspo for Immunity. There are some wonderful artists who've submitted work. They deserve so much appreciation ♥
> 
> .
> 
> This chapter is definitely an end to an arc despite next chapter picking up right where we left off. It was a beast of a chapter and it took a lot of energy. I do want to add that updates will fluctuate. Some chapters may be weekly updates, some biweekly, some even longer. So, I appreciate everyone's patience!


	11. Eternally Damned and Hungry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing this chapter. I'm afraid--however--that I played around with it *a lot* after she'd made her changes. So if you see any mistakes, they're entirely my own.

  1. **Eternally Damned and Hungry**



Ezra paced relentlessly back and forth under the generous fall of snow. 

Agni had claimed the lockdown was still in place, effectively preventing them from departing the mortal realm. Consequently, they’d returned to the clearing they’d last left Indra and the others. Only, there was no deity in sight when they’d arrived.

Clasping his fidgeting hands behind his back, Ezra could not stop the anxiousness from tearing into him like claws, uncertain how his unfurling power was affecting the mortal realm. Agni had suggested they wait for the King of Gods to make a reappearance. 

The suggestion seemed reasonable enough, and yet…

Ezra pivoted abruptly and looked at Agni, not appreciating how irritatingly tranquil he appeared with the lockdown still in place. “Where is he?”

Chitragupta reclined on a boulder behind Agni, watching Ezra pace with pale, fascinated eyes. “It’s not as if he’s forgotten about you,” the Syphon commented unconcernedly as he crossed his ankles together. Above his head, Skanda shifted on the branch, his dark, beady eyes watching Ezra just as closely. “That’s like denying a victor his hard-earned and promised prize.”

Agni turned his head marginally, leveling Chitragupta with an unimpressed stare.

Chit merely blinked back.

As Ezra moved past Agni, a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his elbow, holding him in place. Ignoring Ezra’s voiced protests, Agni tugged him closer, his attention on the wound at his side. “You are at your most powerful,” Agni stated disapprovingly. “Your Essence should have healed this by now. It still appears new.”

Ezra twisted his neck around to look at the wound underneath his arm and between two ribs. It still wept fresh blood and only a very thin layer had crusted and clotted. It hurt, but it wasn’t an agonizing pain that distracted Ezra’s focus. It wasn’t nearly as painful as his throbbing hand, but he wasn’t about to tell Agni that. The god was already overreacting.

“I do not foresee the situation with the Pretas taking long.” Agni carefully lowered Ezra’s arm. “After which, you will be coming home with me and will consent to a full examination by a physician.”

Ezra almost laughed at the absurdity. “Agni—”

“I will hear no arguments.” There was no humor in Agni’s tone. His fiery eyes moved from the wound to settle firmly on Ezra’s face. “You will not show me your hand. You will not share with me your ailments. For being so young, you have been grounded here for far too long. Coupled with what you told me on the train regarding your anxiety—”

Here, Ezra tensed at Agni’s gall for saying that in front of the others.

“—and the slow healing of this wound, you need a personal physician that specializes in deity healing.”

Chitragupta made a face behind Agni, something between smugness and approval.

“I feel _fine_ —”

“This is not up for debate, Ezra,” Agni interrupted again. “When I said you will consent to a full examination, I meant you had no _choice_ but to consent. You do not want me to bring attention to your vulnerabilities in front of Indra, do you?”

Ezra’s attention honed sharply. “You wouldn’t do that. We are allies. You would not hand over a weakness to potential enemies.”

Agni was not impressed. “You are my lover before you are my ally.” His tone was firm and self-assured. “If fate has given me a stubborn and tenacious little fledgling as a counterpart, I must adapt appropriately.” He observed the darkening expression across Ezra’s face. “Even if that means employing less than desirable tactics.”

“Fate?” Ezra scoffed disbelievingly at the god’s audacity. “You’re blaming this on fate? What you meant to say—what you should have said—is that Yamuna gave you exactly what you requested for in a counterpart.”

The god’s eyes brightened wildly with amusement and desire. “Did I say stubborn and tenacious? I meant cheeky and insufferable.”

“And here,” Chitragupta spoke quietly to Skanda without really trying to veil his words, “you will observe an unusual but effective mating ritual between these two species. They practice cutting insults disguised as ostentatious posturing for the role of the _Zasitr_.”

Skanda made a noise of contempt while Agni turned and delivered a sharp look to an innocuous-looking Chitragupta.

“You will _not_ teach him demeaning terms like that.”

Ezra frowned as he recalled his first vocabulary lesson with Chitragupta. It was one he preferred not to remember, simply because it served as an instant trigger of suspicion with each new word discovered. Before he could specify that he already knew what _Zasitr_ meant, Skanda croaked lowly, drawing their attention to the pale figure emerging from the fog and the falling snow.

Indra did not move through the fog. The fog moved for Indra like parting curtains.

Ezra watched his approach with wry dislike.

In the god’s hand, he spun a glowing ring around long and heavily ornamented fingers. In his opposite hand, his staff was dimly lit, casting their surroundings in ghostly silver. Behind him, more dark figures gradually began to take shape. Tvastr followed behind Indra, and after him were the warriors, dressed in their embroidered ivory and gold uniforms. Vayu and Kartikeya were not among the group that now formed a semi-circle across from Ezra and Agni, evidently still completing the Eurus Empire’s evacuation.

Indra’s attention was on Chitragupta first and foremost, his lips scantly twitching with an emotion that was impossible to place, for the rest of the king’s expression was frozen in a cold mask of stoicism.

Indra then looked to Ezra.

Wordlessly, he tossed the glowing ring in the air.

Transfixed, Ezra watched as the gold ring hovered, seemingly trembling, before falling to the ground. Snow exploded into the air as the ring dropped onto the ground, suddenly several times larger than it was prior and glowing so brightly, the sky and surrounding trees were cast in brilliant gold. Ezra stared inside the ring’s perimeter, seeing a blurry image of more gold and an array of other colors.

“Shall we?” Indra drawled with enticement.

Ezra’s lashes lifted as he surveyed Indra’s politely expectant expression.

“The terms of the negotiation indicated the removal of the lockdown,” Agni called out Indra as he stepped next to Ezra. “This artifact that you’re using to travel between the realms is unacceptable. We will not be at the whims of your control when we travel between Elisium and the mortal realm.”

Indra sighed quietly. “Agni,” he crooned, “my first priority is to lower the lockdown once we reach Elisium and remove the Pretas.” He looked to Ezra. “Is that acceptable enough, Reaper? Besides, if the lockdown happens to stay in place, you could always implement Agni’s method of grounding yourself in the mortal realm. You must simply wrap yourself in an unborn mortal soul and implant yourself in a mortal woman. It’s only a small sacrifice to the unborn child and the mother.”

Ezra kept his expression entirely schooled upon the revelation.

Agni’s face was alarming in its cruelty.

Half his face was illuminated by the gold ring, and the other half appeared severe and predatory in shadow. His eyes smoldered malevolently as they looked at Indra. “Daunted I found a loophole to your tyranny, Indra?” A slow, belligerent smile pulled at his mouth. 

Unexpected excitement spasmed through Ezra upon seeing Agni like that.

Indra merely smiled and folded both hands around his staff. “Simply impressed at your ingenuity.” He cocked his head marginally. “What say you, Ezra?” he purred the name with a pointed look at the portal. “It is quite evident that your presence has spilled over in the mortal realm like a black, inky stain. My… if we wait any longer, I imagine it was quite pointless calling off the attack at the capital.”

He made a show of studying the heavy fall of snow and the dense fog hovering over the ground.

“Your expanding aura will destroy them more effectively than the Eurus Empire’s airstrikes ever could.”

Skanda suddenly took off from the tree branch and landed on Ezra’s shoulder. Never having carried Skanda before, Ezra was nearly taken aback at the heavy, unexpected weight. He was much larger than Chitragupta. The Syphon pulled at a wayward strand of Ezra’s hair, clearly trying to tell him it was time to go. And Ezra agreed. He and Indra could dance around each other, but in the end, they both needed something from the other.

They were in a stalemate.

If it came down to it, and if Indra chose to hold the portal hostage between the god realm and mortal realm, Ezra would find a way through Naraka.

“After you,” Ezra insisted, boldly catching and holding Indra’s eyes.

Indra inclined his head and the warriors moved forward under his nonverbal command. Ezra watched as they stepped into the ring’s boundaries and abruptly dropped into it as if it were a bottomless pit. Tvastr was the next to enter the portal, and Indra did not even hesitate before following suit. Ezra imagined Indra wanted a head start to prepare for their entrance on the other side.

He turned and looked at Agni, who watched him back steadily.

“Chitragupta, Skanda, and I will be with you,” Agni said. While he did not speak quickly, there was a quiet urgency in his tone that put Ezra further on edge. “I must stress, at least in the beginning, that you do not stray far from us. The deities are leery of your presence, and I do not trust anyone to be alone with you. It is vital we analyze the situation thoroughly before letting our guard down.”

Ezra nodded, expecting as much.

Skanda’s killers were still out there, after all—their intentions and identities still unknown.

He had an inkling that Agni would be overprotective just from that alone.

“Moreover, you are now entering Indra’s territory.” Agni’s stare was unrelenting and powerful enough to immobilize Ezra. “He parades his power and control as if they were material objects. All pleasantries are off the table. Now that he has you where he wants you, he will play this game his way. You are most likely still overwhelmed from battle and your farewells, but I must stress the importance of keeping on your toes.”

“I am sharp enough, Agni,” Ezra replied, reassuring both himself and Agni. The emptiness and disorientation would not get in his way. “I will not falter now that it is most imperative. This is my calling, is it not? Standing opposite of Indra and exacting my own force? Paving the way for eventual equality between Syphons and deities?”

“And much, much more than that,” Agni replied gravely. He grabbed Ezra’s gloved, skeletal hand. “And I will be with you every step of the way.”

Ezra smirked. “I will hold you to that promise. After all, you’re the one who started all this.”

Instead of expressing humor, Agni appeared painstakingly solemn. “I am.”

Much to the ire of Skanda, Chitragupta suddenly morphed into a raven and flew on Ezra’s opposite shoulder. The two ravens traded vindictive, determined looks, both stubbornly staying on their perch despite sharing the same host.

Ezra turned back to the portal.

With their hands still connected, he pulled Agni with him. Tossing aside all his considerable reservations, he plunged into the unknown.

Literally.

His stomach flopped erratically as he plunged through time and space. The sensation was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. His head compressed with an unyielding pressure. A wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him as they fell into cold _nothingness._ The hand tightening around his and the talons piercing his shoulders were the only things preventing him from losing his identity.

Before he knew it, the freefall stopped abruptly and he was forced to stand, his knees buckling beneath him. Agni was quick to support him, preventing him from sprawling unceremoniously onto the ground.

Which was a fortunate thing, for Ezra suddenly recognized the dozens of dimly glowing spears lifted and angled in his direction.

Agni took a menacing step forward and the spears inched a tick backward, the warriors all stiffening.

Beneath Ezra’s feet, the golden portal dimmed and shrunk before flying across the room.

It hit Indra’s awaiting palm.

The King of Gods glided conceitedly across floors that _gleamed_ and tucked two gold rings around his wrists. “Forgive the less than hospitable welcome, Reaper,” came the god’s smooth and haughty timbre. “But we normally do not condone Syphons entering our realm. If they make any effort to transform out of their raven forms, I have given the order to engage.”

There were more warriors surrounding them now than there had been in the mortal realm. 

Faced with a threat in an unknown environment, Ezra felt his waning adrenaline rouse furiously.

He shifted, his muscles coiling and his instincts honing. The warriors were all looking at the two ravens and _him_ as if they were abominations. He placed a protective hand against Chit’s breast feathers, his posture prepared to react instinctively. On his opposite shoulder, Skanda’s talons curled further as he flapped his wings, encouraged by the active threat.

Indra held up a palm and the spears all withdrew in unison. The warriors marched back several steps and spaced out loosely around the room. They formed a circle around Ezra and Agni while brandishing their weapons at the ready. Their expressions all cleared into blank slates with unemotional, yet focused eyes.

Indra prowled behind his army, mapping out his territory by slowly tracing the perimeter of the guards.

“An impressive show of force,” Ezra praised scathingly. “Consider me properly intimidated.”

Standing against the far wall, Tvastr smiled thinly. “Perhaps you would not be personally intimidated, Reaper, but these weapons were designed specifically to critically injure Syphons.” The God of Weaponry made a show of consideration. “Though, as you are part-Syphon, it may be just as effective against _you_.”

“I look forward to seeing the one who’d be foolish enough to try the weapon’s effectiveness against him,” Agni mused with underlying anticipation.

“There will be no reason to test the weapon, Agni.” Indra moved between two guards and leisurely approached the center of the circle. “We’re all allies here. In Ezra’s case, new allies.” He glided across the floors with a repulsive amount of grace. “And with every new alliance, boundaries must be expressed and proper terms communicated.”

Ezra watched Indra’s approach through skeptical eyes.

The king came to a stop directly opposite of Ezra, toeing his personal boundaries. Ezra stood at his full height, though the addition of the two ravens certainly helped make him appear taller. Indra’s gaze was penetrating as he absorbed Ezra’s features with a peculiar amount of obsessiveness. His attention lifted quickly to the spear strapped to Ezra’s back before refocusing on his face.

“Alas,” he started quietly, “we will have to postpone our first meeting yet again in order to rid Elisium of the Pretas.”

Ironically, distant screams followed Indra’s comment.

Ezra’s spine stiffened as the hairs rose on his neck.

They were under active threat—an active threat Ezra was expected to resolve—and yet, he had absolutely no knowledge of said threat. Going into situations blindly— _ignorantly_ blind—was not something he ever did unless absolutely necessary. And unfortunately for Indra, despite Elisium being his ‘home’ now, he did not empathize with the situation enough to dive in headfirst without knowledge.

“I need to know more about the Pretas before adhering to orders on how to deal with them.”

Tvastr pushed off from the wall, his posture coiled with impatience. “There is nothing you need to know at this moment besides Agni being the one to send them here. They need to be herded. Rounded up and sent back to Naraka where they came from.”

Were they… _animals_?

Indra tilted his head just marginally but it was enough to pacify and quiet Tvastr. 

The king then slowly refocused on Ezra with a faint, polite smile. “Pretas were once mortal souls that have evolved into the creatures you will see. They aren’t especially threatening or intelligent, but they are a dangerous nuisance. An infestation that has spilled divine blood. Unfortunately, there are only two things they are susceptible to. The Reaper being one.” Indra glanced at Agni, who separated from Ezra’s side and slowly began to circle the king. “And fire.”

Chit shifted impatiently on Ezra’s shoulder.

Ezra knew the Syphon well enough to know he had something to say.

“I would like to hear Chitragupta’s explanation,” Ezra challenged. “He knows Naraka better than anyone here.”

Under the mischievous eyes of Ezra, Indra’s pleasantly impassive face darkened.

By Ezra requesting Chitragupta, Indra would have to take back his theatrical threats of the Syphons remaining in their raven forms. Moreover, while he did not have the full details yet, he assumed Indra and Chitragupta were related. Would Indra put Chit in harm’s way? The general consensus of gods—from what Ezra understood—was that they believed Syphons to be monstrosities of their loved ones.

If Indra cared at all about his realm—and his people—he would not waste more time arguing and dancing with Ezra. He would—

“That will be acceptable. Just this once.”

Just beyond Indra’s shoulder, Agni and Ezra locked eyes, the former offering an approving smirk.

Chitragupta shifted on Ezra’s shoulder before he jumped, his body transforming in midair. Around the room, the warriors all prepared themselves, lowering defensively and wielding their weapons at the ready.

Chit looked pointedly at Ezra and ignored all others, _especially_ Indra. “We can speak in more detail later, but you should at least know where they came from. Compared to the rest of the god realm, Naraka and Yama are—were—quite young,” he said. “Naraka was created as a result of the Last War. But mortals existed before Naraka and even before Yama.”

“We don’t need a _history_ lesson, Chitragupta,” an edgy Tvastr called from his end of the room.

“On the contrary,” Ezra argued back, “if I am to deal with them, I would very much appreciate hearing the origins of the Pretas. It’s why I asked for Chitragupta.” Turning back to the Syphon, Ezra was quick to draw an assumption. “Without a Reaper, where did the mortal souls go?”

There was a river now. The souls all seemed drawn to it immediately upon death.

But if Naraka and the river did not exist then—

“There was still a purgatory. An underworld. But it was not quite as intricate as Naraka. It was a pit of unorganized chaos. While there were exceptions, the majority of souls were sent to this underworld. Upon Yama’s initiation as the Reaper, many of these souls were intact enough for him to judge. But the vast majority… after so long suffering in the throngs of hell, transformed into creatures that you’ll see locked in Naraka today.”

“One of them being the Pretas,” Ezra assumed.

Chit nodded. “They eventually became eternally damned and hungry mortal spirits.”

“Hungry in the sense that nothing sates their appetite,” Agni added, teasing Indra with his looming presence the same way Indra teased Ezra with his. “Their long, thin necks and small mouths prevent them from feeding as much as they’d like. Moreover, their appetite often leans toward the unsavory—”

“Unsavory does not inhabit Elisium,” Indra interrupted disdainfully with a sharp look at Agni. He was forced to step away from Ezra in order to keep an eye on the lurking Fire God. “Unsavory would be vile things in the mortal realm. Like human waste and rot. Because Elisium does not offer such sources of food, they are seeking substance from the deities themselves. Flesh. Muscle. Many deities are defenseless.”

Ezra absorbed the information while recognizing the growing tension from Indra and the other deities across the room. It was evident they needed to act now, and yet, what was the solution?

“Pretas cannot be judged and laid to rest?”

“No.” Chitragupta offered a brief, understanding smile. “The ancient souls Yama could not save are now ancient _creatures_ who cannot be saved, Ezra.”

“They are to be controlled,” said Agni.

“There has to be some way,” Ezra started quietly as he addressed Chit. “The Reaper is the master of deceased souls.”

“That may be so, Reaper, and I encourage your experiments _after_ they are locked back in Naraka.” Indra moved deliberately, wordlessly requesting Ezra to follow. The god was strangely adept at nonverbal suggestions. “I did not trust the Pretas under Yama’s singular rule; therefore, another deity locked them away. At the time, this particular deity was not sleeping with the Reaper, and I could trust his judgement.”

Ezra looked to Agni, noticing the very faint and fleeting indulgent smile.

As Chit reclaimed Ezra’s shoulder, they moved across the expansive room and toward a pair of massive doors. The warriors all moved with them, enclosing the group loosely while maintaining proper formation.

“For centuries, a fire barrier was used to cage them.”

“A blue fire barrier,” Agni specified at Ezra’s side. “They have never tolerated the heat and color of blue flames. Their territory is dark. Anything brighter eventually draws them toward it, with anticipations that it would bring them to a living realm, which is how I lured them toward the portals to Elisium.”

Two warriors opened the set of double doors, and Ezra was immediately assaulted with the sounds of commotion and alarm.

He had assumed this was the palace, yet evidently royalty was not exempt from the chaos.

The corridors they moved through were more like enormous halls, and oddly enough, Ezra got the impression of Igni architecture. The walls were towering, the intricate ceilings were high and arched with fan vaults. Ezra became dizzily overwhelmed at the sight of their majestic detail. Unlike the native Igni Empire, however, the palace was far more subtle in color, choosing shades of ivories, golds, and black. When there was color, it was tastefully done with vibrant, crushed enameled glass and gold tesserae. 

Even the ceiling vaults had several colors implemented between panels. 

As much as Ezra would have stopped and admired his surroundings, he found himself hustled quickly up a set of meticulously carved stairs where the sporadic cries of panic grew closer.

“Surya has been assisting where he can.” Indra glanced at Agni, who appeared elated at the revelation. “Because the Pretas’ senses are not adjusted, weapons that bring light will scatter them.” Here, Indra’s gaze found Ezra’s. “However, they’ll eventually acclimate to the light, and we do not have enough warriors for every unarmed deity. Herding them back into their territory is proving impossible, especially when Agni has completely removed fire from Elisium.”

Agni did not appear chastised. 

Even through his cloud of disorientation, Ezra found Agni’s lack of sympathy macabrely amusing.

They moved past a great hall where several men and women—no—several _gods and goddesses_ spilled out and into the brightly lit corridor. Armed warriors remained standing around the perimeter, evidently the lookout for the Pretas. Unusual music drifted in the air, its volume quiet but still utterly jarring to Ezra’s senses. The music, along with the peculiar dress of the deities, sent his mind spiraling even further with disorientation and confusion.

He found his senses blunting.

More screams resonated in the near distance. 

He quelled his rising anxiety before it could take over.

“Tvastr? Where is Kartikeya?” a goddess demanded upon seeing their approach.

On Ezra’s shoulder, Skanda shifted.

“Not now, Svaha,” Tvastr answered—surprisingly gentle—as they passed.

At the mention of Svaha, Ezra focused on the crowd of deities. He spied her short, auburn hair first as she stood among a group of equally attractive women—goddesses. Her wide eyes of stormy grey fixated exclusively on Agni as soon as she took notice of the Fire God. Because Ezra was caged between Agni and Indra, he was the last to incur her attention. As she scrutinized his appearance, her expression rippled with curdled shock and then displeasure.

Heads craned around Svaha, and the excitement was palpable once they spotted Ezra. Their stares turned to leers, and Ezra’s skin crawled from the intensity of their regard.

Agni maneuvered his body to block Ezra completely.

“Where are you taking our new fledgling, My King?” someone called cheerfully with the aid of a drunken slur. “We’d like a proper look—”

Indra moved swiftly past, but not before turning to identify the face of the one presumptuous enough to call him out so boldly. Inscrutable, cold eyes turned back forward. “It seems as if they have nothing better to do during a capital quandary,” he murmured neutrally enough, though one could discern the promise of future retribution. 

Just ahead, there was a god and goddess standing a distance away from the others, cast in unseen but perceptible splendor and supremacy. A spasm of surprise managed to slip past Ezra’s rapidly growing stupor. The woman’s— _goddess’_ —appearance was indescribably beautiful. In Ezra’s current state, he could only stare into her eyes of molten gold. She stared back at him, her expression pleasantly approving before creasing with suspicion and haunted recognition.

She and Indra shared a deliberate look before they moved past.

Leaving the sophisticated wing behind, they turned into a grand entrance where another crowd stood huddled together.

This group’s wardrobe was less extravagant, their appearances not nearly as notable. And yet, there were just as many warriors surrounding them as the others. Ezra was quick to identify the sheer terror on everyone’s expressions as well as several bleeding appendages. Blood smeared and trailed across the tiled floors, mostly leading to ankles or lower legs.

The deities’ eyes roved wildly across the palace walls, hysterically searching for threats as if they’d lunge out at them.

And they _did_.

Ezra’s eyes widened marginally as three forms phased through nearby walls. Almost as if drawn to the deities who demonstrated the most fear, the creatures were mere blurs as they sprinted toward the group with curled claws and razor-sharp teeth. The screams he heard earlier began to chorus through the palace again, rattling Ezra’s ears.

The guards slashed their spears, dissecting the air with a blinding flash of light that hovered and lingered.

Instantly, inhuman screeches drowned out the cries of fear and two of the three creatures retreated back into the walls. The remaining Preta hesitated however, disorientated from the light, before continuing his lunge forward. There was unsettling bloodlust in his eyes. Ezra had seen starving men and women on the cusp of death, but even their hunger paled in comparison to these creatures.

Creatures—Ezra coined loosely—because they looked like small humans with abnormally long necks and snarling mouths.

But that expression... and that aura…

Was entirely human.

Ezra looked at the creature and instantly observed its pain and torment. It seemed to carry its anguish like a physical burden, for its shoulders were curved forward in a severe hunch. Nevertheless, the abysmal posture did not hinder its quickness. It jerked excitedly and dove into the group with a gruesome snarl, its fingers eagerly outstretched toward legs that shied away.

Blue fire suddenly ignited between the lunging Preta and the deities.

The bloodlust across the Preta’s face abruptly morphed into intense terror as it turned and fled.

Ezra watched it go, feeling strangely gutted.

The emptiness he’d carried into Elisium only seemed to spread further upon the situation with the Pretas. They’d been mortals once. Ancient mortals without a Reaper, without a place to rest. Now they were reduced to ravenous _animals,_ and Ezra was expected to herd them all like flock and trap them back into their hell as some sort of punishment. 

“Ezra and I can take this from here,” Agni placed a firm hand on Ezra’s lower back and guided him away from the others.

“I will happily allow you to clean up your own mess, Agni,” Indra assured courteously as he followed at a respectable pace. “But I will personally monitor the situation.”

Without giving Indra the satisfaction of a response, Agni hurried Ezra toward the exit of the palace. They passed the large group of deities standing within the ring of blue flames. Several of them openly gaped at Agni and Ezra, acting like mere children without necessary filters. Their energy was pulsating and grating to Ezra’s drained senses as they spoke exuberantly amongst each other.

“Fledglings,” Agni explained quietly as they moved out into the obnoxiously sunny day.

Ezra didn’t even have the energy to turn and reexamine those of his same age group.

“You look ill, child.”

“Indra seems to have that effect on people,” Ezra responded emotionlessly.

There was nothing quite like a heavy workload to keep a mind preoccupied and running. It prevented him from thinking of everything that had transpired here _and_ Concordia. Most importantly, he didn’t want to talk about it with Agni, who would excruciatingly dissect his emotions. Staying busy was vital, no matter how draining. 

He glanced up at said god, looking away when those eyes peered relentlessly through him. “How many Pretas are there?” Ezra asked tiredly. “They were fast and they could phase through the walls.”

They descended the massive white staircase before moving down a lush, grassy hill.

An enormous garden—nearly surreal in its size—loomed ahead. There were plants and flowers blooming with peculiar colors and scents. Ezra could hardly process, nor understand the vividness and the beauty. A plethora of creatures flew in the air, and Ezra was drawn to the ones that appeared like tiny birds but far quicker in speed. His eyes nearly went cross-eyed as one flew in front of him, its tiny body gleaming a brilliant emerald and amethyst, its beak enormously elongated and needle-like.

Before Ezra could examine it in more detail, it flew into the nearby flowers. 

Agni suddenly stopped, fisting the material at the back of Ezra’s jacket to halt him as well.

He gazed down, catching and holding Ezra’s eyes. “Did you truly think we’d be running after them and swinging ropes for restraining purposes?”

Ezra exhaled carefully to quell his exasperated amusement. “I imagine Indra would take great pleasure watching us attempt that.”

He glanced at the observing king, who stood a distance away with Tvastr. They appeared expectant and Ezra knew they looked forward to watching Agni ‘clean up his own mess’. They’d believe it their victory and their right to enjoy the performance. But Agni had done this so _Ezra_ didn’t have to bend so far backward for Indra to get into Elisium.

Agni suddenly clicked his tongue in discontentment upon discovering the bloodied lesions across Ezra’s shoulders where the Syphons’ talons had gripped him. He waved an irritated hand, causing them to take flight with croaks of loud protest.

“Find another scratching post,” he reprimanded.

Ezra shifted his stance now that the weight was gone from his shoulders. The two ravens landed on the ground next to him, walking with obvious irritability around the two gods. He then took notice of the strange phenomenon just over Agni’s shoulder.

“Is that one of the portals?”

Agni smiled and turned to admire the standing fire. “It is. And also, our solution to transporting the Pretas back into their territory. There are several of these across Elisium.”

Ezra approached the large fire that emitted a warm, oppressive heat. It was as impressively tall as it was wide. The light orange flames were spellbinding as they danced and rippled in midair. He could stare at it for hours—transfixed.

“How did you do it? You didn’t have to enter their territory to create portals to Elisium?”

“Wherever my fire burns, I have a presence there. A consciousness. I do not need to be there in person.” He reached out and his fingers ghosted across the portal. “I turned several areas in their territory into portals that transported them to Elisium. I don’t imagine they all had the courage to go through the portals. The majority are most likely still cowering in their territory.”

He marveled at Agni’s abilities with his fire. “And you can travel by fire as well?”

Agni offered a small smile. “Just like the Reaper can travel by shadow.” He refocused on the burning portal. “I will reverse the portals across Elisium so they are no longer transporting Pretas into Elisium but rather transporting the Pretas back to their territory in Naraka.”

The large fire suddenly turned a mesmerizing royal blue, clearly the same blue fire that had caged the Pretas in their territory for centuries.

Ezra stared, captivated.

“Our goal is to draw the Pretas towards the portal with desperate hopes of escape.” Agni fondly observed Ezra’s fascination with the blue flames. “They fear blue fire and will avoid it. So, let us lure them to a more familiar comfort they will consider as a refuge.”

The blue fire darkened substantially before turning black.

The portal still burned like fire, still released reaching and curling tendrils, but it was a bottomless and inky shadow that did not cast any light. It merely swallowed it whole. Ezra withheld the temptation to ask if Agni would have to stand at each individual portal and reverse it. However, he knew Agni was powerful and capable enough to simultaneously change all the portals without exerting much effort.

It would be just like Agni to devise ways to cure Elisium of the Pretas before he even released them.

He would not create a problem he could not efficiently and quickly solve.

Ezra found his admiration of the God of Fire lifting to new heights. Indra would be disappointed. He wouldn’t see Agni struggle to fix his own mess; he would see Agni completely own the situation.

“Now,” Agni began with a soothing purr, “it is your turn.”

The God of Fire reached into the black flames before withdrawing his hand and offering Ezra a black butterfly. Ezra looked curiously at the flaming butterfly, watching its wings flap leisurely as it sat obediently upon Agni’s outstretched palm. Ezra then looked at the god, noticing the blazing eyes watching him daringly, challenging him to draw his own conclusions.

“Simple black fire will not frighten them enough, Ezra, nor draw them to the portals.”

Agni leaned forward and blew on the butterfly, extinguishing it into a cloud of smoke.

Ezra watched the faint traces of smoke climb into the air, hearing the even fainter whispers and voices tendril from the portal. Standing this close to the black fire, Ezra’s skin prickled and the small hairs rose on his arms. The sensation coming from the black fire was unnerving, sinister, but most importantly, Ezra had never felt something exude so much power that synced so well with his own. It was similar to the Cold, and yet…

Far more familiar.

“You want Naraka to hunt the Pretas,” Ezra concluded.

Agni’s stare grew ravenous. “Show them all that you’re home, _charu_.”

It was easy to get caught up in Agni’s excitement, his thirst to dominate and prevail. Ezra turned back to the fire and contemplated the portal to Naraka. The realm was sentient. It was what the others always stressed. It was what Naraka had—itself—stressed to Ezra many times. But while this portal secreted the same unnerving sentiments the entrance had, it was somehow different.

Far tamer. Far more depressed.

Ezra knew that feeling well enough to recognize it in another.

This territory of Naraka did not have the personality of a mischievous and spiteful entity, but rather a compliant and lethargic servant. As soon as it recognized Ezra’s concentration, however, it perked up attentively. Several shadowy offshoots seeped from the fire, stretching wantonly toward Ezra, enthusiastically hoping to make contact.

Ezra allowed the shadows to touch his gloved hand.

It reared away before surging back forward, encouraged and relieved to see its master. Ezra wondered if this section of Naraka was so different from the rest because it was a secluded area, warded off from the rest and relatively bored. Regardless, Ezra nearly wept with relief for something turning out _right_ for once. He wanted to help Naraka. He wanted to do good.

If only the largest part of Naraka was this overeager to appease him.

Once Naraka recognized Ezra’s intentions with the Pretas, Ezra lured it from the black flames. He stepped backward as the inky shadow shot skyward, emanating waves of exhilaration from being released. While Ezra needed to practice caution, lest this Naraka decided to turn out like its master persona and wreak havoc across Elisium, he _knew_ this territory would obediently follow his whims.

At least with the promise that he’d return and visit.

_I’ll return._

Upon Ezra’s promise, the small piece of Naraka stretched victoriously into the sky like a dark stain. It crawled over the clouds and the sun, casting the realm of Elisium in heavy shadow. Ezra frowned in bemusement as something pierced through his focus on Naraka’s exhilaration. Something cold and watchful. Something focused exclusively on Ezra. He felt his skin crawl the same way as it had when all those deities had leered at him in the palace corridor. 

A voiced protest sounded from behind them, disrupting Ezra’s focus. Indra descended the hill with impressive speed. In his hand, his staff glowed fierce enough to make Ezra leery. 

“What did you _do_?”

“Naraka is assisting its Reaper,” Agni replied simply.

Before Indra could respond, there was a deafening _crack_ that reverberated across Elisium. It was eerie enough to give Ezra chills, and he flinched when another bone-chilling _crack_ sounded _._ Staring into the darkened skies, he watched a splinter vein its way across Naraka’s shadow. Sunlight poured through the splinters, drawing attention to the millions of tiny cracks across the dark veil.

Suddenly, the fractured shadow ruptured apart.

The tiny black shards suspended in midair before they all animated and morphed into birds.

Ezra exhaled with awed amusement.

Clearly, Naraka was competing with Agni for the position as theatrics master.

The swarm of birds plummeted from the skies, all twisting in separate directions to hunt after the Pretas. A cloud of black birds soared toward the palace, and Ezra closed his eyes as they flew over the grounds, bringing with them a gust of cold, familiar power. Chitragupta and Skanda erupted in elated cries as they took flight amongst the chaos and soared skyward.

“This will not—”

Ezra opened his eyes to watch a shadowy bird open its beak and descended on an escaping Preta. The bird’s jaw seemed to unhinge grotesquely, splitting open its whole head as it extended wider into a gaping, fathomless void. 

It swallowed the frantic Preta whole before bursting into a cloud of smoke. 

It was enough to silence Indra completely. 

Turning, Ezra caught Agni’s concentrated stare. The god was observing him intensely, looking for what—Ezra did not know or understand. Was this not what he had requested Ezra to do? It was all Naraka’s doing, anyhow; Ezra had just lured it from the fire. 

Next to Agni, Indra also watched him skeptically. His staff continued to glow, but it had muted considerably.

“I never want any piece, any fragment of Naraka in Elisium again, and that includes the Syphons from this point forward,” Indra said with a lethal calm. His eyes, normally cold and impassive, glinted with barely restrained power and quiet rage. He no longer appeared like a diplomatic king, but rather an ancient force. “There were several alternatives you could have implemented to get rid of the Pretas.”

Ezra found he had nothing to say to that.

Indra then turned to Agni. “You and I will be having words about his—” He motioned to Ezra with a firm hand. “About Rudra.”

With that, the King of Gods ascended back up the hill among the swarm of shadowy birds as they filled the skies in search of their prey.

Naraka reached out to Ezra again—this time, eager to tell him the story of the Pretas.

Ezra blocked out his surroundings in order to give it his full attention.

*** * * ***

There was quiet. And calm.

Ezra found himself sitting on a cushioned stone bench. As his eyes gradually focused, he observed the royal blue flames as they rippled elegantly in a stone basin. Clear crystals decorated the bottom of the fire basin, keenly absorbing the shades of sapphire from the flames.

It was warm. And sunny.

Ezra sat underneath the high sun, feeling his normally cold body preen underneath the sweltering heat. His tense muscles relaxed, though he wasn’t sure if it was due from the heat or the firm hand massaging the back of his neck. Or maybe it was the absolute stillness and silence in the air. There were no sirens declaring enemy approach, there were no explosions, no cries of loss, no goodbyes…

Nothing but silence and sweet nothingness. 

The hand stopped its sinful kneading. “Are you back with me, child?”

He turned marginally, realizing Agni sat next to him. Ezra then lifted his gaze, staring around with confusion. They sat in what appeared to be a courtyard with several familiar vegetation that gave Ezra a strong sense of nostalgia for the desert regions. Settled between large pavers, the gardens boasted desert lilies, a wide-variety of cacti, and several vibrant succulents. 

A structure surrounded the courtyard entirely on all sides. Ezra hesitated to call the structure a house, simply because he had never seen a residency that was one level and so… Eurus-like. 

Modern and sleek.

It looked vaguely familiar.

Floor to ceiling windows made up the entirety of the home’s exterior, though they were tinted and prevented Ezra from seeing inside the home properly. He had his assumption that Agni picked a secluded, closed-off area so as to not overstimulate him with new sights and unfamiliar spaces.

It was far, far too late for that.

“Where are we?” he asked faintly.

_Was he dreaming?_

Agni ran his fingers through Ezra’s hair and tucked several wayward strands behind his ear. “We are in my territory. Do you recall coming here?”

“The Pretas—”

“Are taken care of. They were all herded back into Naraka,” Agni explained calmly. “You were unfocused toward the end of our mission and hardly reacted to anything I said.” He kept watching Ezra closely. “We only just got here several minutes ago.”

Relieved he hadn’t lost much time, Ezra realized they were both still incredibly dirty, bloody, and exhausted. “Chit and Skanda?”

“Inside the home. For now.”

Ezra nodded slowly, feeling his senses gradually return, but the disorientation still lingered like heavy fog. “Naraka showed me more about the Pretas,” he said quietly. “I was overcome with the—” _emotions._ He bowed his head, feeling the devastation return. A headache blossomed behind his eyes and thrummed painfully across his head. “The Pretas have families, Agni. They can communicate with each other. They have communities and past lives. They have feelings and sentiments—”

“As do you.” Agni reclined further on the bench. “And you can only experience so many of them before it overwhelms you.”

Ezra furrowed his brows. “That’s not my point.”

“It’s _my_ point.” Agni’s stare was unrelenting. “You’ve had enough things to deal with personally that you still have not acknowledged, nor accepted. You did not need centuries worth of _Preta_ hardships added to your burden. Which leads me to question whether it was Naraka that put you in such a stupor, or if it was the accumulated stress you’re trying to suppress.”

Ezra’s barriers rose. Conversations with Agni always led to an analyzation of feelings. “My duty, my very purpose, is to be a sympathizer of Naraka. There are many things I need to accomplish, helping the Pretas is one of them. They may be ancient and damned, but I believe there is some salvation there. There has to be.”

The God of Fire appeared as if he were holding his tongue from saying what he truly wanted to say. 

He settled with, “You cannot save everyone, Ezra.”

“I can.” Ezra shifted on the bench, wanting to pace, wanting to start doing something productive in Naraka. “I have eternity to solve the unsolvable.”

Agni was not impressed. 

Though he hid it well, there was a haunted look in his eyes as he stared at Ezra.

Behind Agni, a door suddenly opened and emitted a god Ezra had never seen before, dressed in something he had never imagined a man to ever wear. Ever.

It looked like a knee-length Igni kurta. It was dark and paired with a belt of an array of colors. But there were no trousers. No pants. Nothing but bare, bronzed, _hairless_ skin. A leather strap was slung over his chest and shoulder, drawing attention to the heavy pouch that bounced against his hip as he walked cautiously over. Once he was in front of Agni and Ezra, he placed his sandaled feet together and bowed quickly—jerkily—at the waist. 

“ _Namaste_. Hello, hi.” He pressed his hands together before changing his mind and waving kindly to a scrutinizing Ezra. He smiled openly. “You must be Ezra. Our new Reaper. I am one of the two Ashvins, a divine physician and God of Health and Medicine.”

Ezra immediately became on edge, though he couldn’t help but wonder why the stranger looked familiar. Agni was no help. The god simply sat there, watching the exchange without any introductions or explanations.

“You must be comparing me to my sister,” the god mused after a heavy silence, identifying Ezra’s suspicion. “You’ve met her. Yamuna.” He had the same white-blond hair, though his skin and eyes were much darker than Yamuna’s. He took a single step closer to Ezra. “Twins run in our family. You’ll meet mine eventually, his name is also—”

“Ashvin.” Agni stood with an air of impatience. “He needs healing, not a family history.”

“Yes. Yes. Of course.”

He made a move for Ezra, though the younger god stood up in protest. “I—”

“ _Down_.” Agni’s command was absolute and thunderous.

Ezra didn’t recall the God of Fire ever using that tone. It was enough for him to lower back down, though he did so petulantly. The physician wisely did not comment but instead requested Ezra to take off his jacket. Under the stern eyes of Agni, Ezra peeled off his overcoat before reluctantly pulling off his tunic, making sure to keep his newly discovered tattoo away from Ashvin. 

The physician did not stare at the serpent mark coiled around his arm; rather, he proceeded to clean the wounds across Ezra’s shoulders with cold precision. The god’s demeanor was quick and efficient, his touch sterile and professional as he scrutinized the wound Tvastr had given him during the Concordia battle.

“Tell me about your hand, Ezra.”

Ezra, who had stared stubbornly at the fire during the cleanings, refocused on the physician with razor-sharp focus. “There is nothing wrong with it,” he informed firmly, albeit defensively. “It stopped hurting as soon as I entered Elisium.”

Agni was about to say something, most likely something scathing, but Ashvin made an intrigued noise. “Perhaps during my next visit, you will feel more comfortable showing me your hand.” He smiled gently, and his fingers—which glowed faintly—pressed near the wound at Ezra’s side. He then rummaged through his bag and handed Ezra a glass vial that was shaped oddly, looking something like a half-animal and half-human. “I am going to administer a tonic to help you sleep. Your Essence is urging you to rest.”

Ezra looked up at Agni. “I need to be in Naraka. I need to get Kai. And Cyra.”

And Keegan. And Cain.

And so many others. There were hundreds of years’ worth of souls waiting for him.

“We will discuss it after you wake.”

Ashvin nodded solemnly as he agreed with Agni. “If you could see what I see, Ezra, you would acknowledge the importance of a few hours of sleep.” He had a calming voice. “Plus, it allows me to treat this wound. You will need it sealed. It’s less painful when you’re unconscious.”

Acknowledging he was acting irrational for arguing against treatment, and would appear significantly more so if he declined a _nap,_ Ezra reluctantly took the offered tonic. He glanced at his gloved hand, not wanting to chance the possibility of them taking advantage of his unconsciousness to look at it. As if reading Ezra’s hesitations, Ashvin clicked his tongue with disapproval.

“You have my word I will only look at your Essence and seal your wound.”

Ezra wasn’t worried about Ashvin going against his word. He was worried about Agni seeing his hand. And Agni would have no reservations ignoring his boundaries if he justified the invasiveness by wanting to help Ezra.

Knowing he had little choice in the matter, and not wanting to draw too much attention to his vulnerability lest it encourage Agni further, Ezra swallowed the tonic. It had a slight fruity tang that wasn’t pleasant by any means, but it quickly thickened the fog in his head and weighed his limbs down substantially. 

With the assistance of Ashvin, he laid back on the cushioned bench.

As soon as his head hit the cushion, he finally surrendered.

*** * * ***

Crouching down next to his patient, Ashvin blatantly admired the exceptionally attractive and symmetrical features of the Reaper, well aware of the God of Fire breathing down his neck. And Brahma’s son had every right to be protective with such an alluring god for a counterpart. The small-statured Reaper possessed a face and air that would make anyone’s stomach clench with both yearning and desire.

Fortunately, Ashvin’s interest was purely intellectual.

As it usually—no—always had been.

He smirked at the enigma presented before him before looking at Agni. 

“What _is_ he?” Keeping his eyes on the looming Fire God, Ashvin pressed the pads of his fingers against the fledgling’s wrist. “You wanted me to treat him specifically because you knew something about this, don’t you?” he mused distantly, his gaze unfocusing as he examined the thrumming Essence. So much movement and intrigue. So much ominousness. And yet— “His body shows the typical indications that he is a newborn god, but his Essence is…”

He dropped the wrist and focused on Agni.

The god watched him steadily, his expression darkly impassive. “Is…?”

Ashvin shook his head with disbelief. Everything he heard about the newborn fledgling was a lie. “Three—perhaps four hundred years old?”

Agni’s expression did not even flicker. “Is there a possibility his Essence is older?”

“Older?” Ashvin scoffed with incredulity and glanced at the newborn on the bench. “It’s possible, but what truly puzzles me is the sheer number of sleep deposits in his Essence. You typically see those levels of deposits from ancient gods who choose to sleep for several centuries. Ezra’s Essence is littered with them.” He recaptured the thin wrist and shackled it with glowing fingers.

The Reaper was a conundrum, and Agni knew far more than he let on.

Ashvin had never encountered something quite like this. 

“He is not a reincarnation. He is not a copy.”

“You are correct. I do not see evidence of any of that, no,” Ashvin murmured distantly as he focused on the Essence. “I see… I see familiar traces of Yama, but it is faint. There is a possibility his Essence appears older from Yama’s influence…” he trailed off, curious how the newborn had traces of Yama’s Essence in the first place. It was something to discuss with his sister unless Ezra truly _was_ Brahma’s design. He found it hard to believe Yamuna could construct something like this. “But it does not explain the sleep deposits. The number is tremendous. Yama never slept, so it is not his influence.”

“What are the consequences of having sleep deposits?”

“He shouldn’t have them for one so young.” Ashvin placed the Reaper’s hand back on the bench. “There is a reason sleep—especially deep sleep—is inadvisable for newborns and fledglings. It’s not good for their development.” 

He busied himself with sealing the wound at the fledgling’s side. He only felt partially guilty for telling Ezra the sealing was an unpleasant feeling.

Truly, it was only a sharp, temporary pinch as he sealed the wound.

The Reaper was under obvious stress and had needed the forced sleep. Ashvin could see it in his Essence, in the way he carried himself, and in the way his eyes silently pleaded for rest. Counseling Agni on proper stress treatment would come next visit, preferably with Ezra conscious.

“Taking sleep away completely will cause adverse effects. You will need to wean him off sleep in order to strengthen his Essence,” Ashvin continued despite Agni’s stoic silence. The god was known for being unapproachable and aloof. It may have unnerved him if he hadn’t been asked to come here by Agni personally. “Make sure he gets a few hours of rest each day. His Essence may be older, but it's as underdeveloped as a newborn’s Essence. It’s why he was slow to heal, why he will be susceptible to illnesses. We’ll get him up to speed in no time. I just need to make routine visits to monitor his progress.” 

Sealing the wound, he sat back on his haunches and reached for the hand that caused the Reaper so much distress.

Closing his eyes, he focused on the skeletal hand beneath his hold, respecting his patient’s privacy and keeping on the glove. There was no reason to remove it. Not when he could see it quite clearly through touch alone. The hand was not one of the most unusual things Ashvin had encountered—certainly not as unusual as Ezra’s Essence—but it was a perplexity. 

“It is entirely all bone. Up to the wrist bone.”

“Is it reversible?”

Ashvin opened his eyes. Just as he was about to respond, he paused abruptly, finally catching sight of the expression across Agni’s face. He normally did not allow distractions to influence his diagnosis of a patient, but he found himself hesitating now, deliberating if it was wise to infuriate the god—

“Tell me.”

Ashvin lowered his eyes with involuntary submission. “The more pressing question is whether the progression has stopped.”

He rolled his glowing fingers around Ezra’s stiff and insulated glove that revealed no outward deformity. Having the ability to see with his touch, and peer into a deity’s Essence, gave Ashvin impressions of his patients. After only several minutes with Ezra, Ashvin got the impression that the Reaper excelled at hiding things, whether that be physical deformities or any emotional vulnerabilities. He wondered if that was a conscious decision in an attempt to appear capable before Agni, or if it was an inbred trait he learned during his upbringing. 

“It is assumed the living realm gradually ate away at his hand,” Agni said. “I was told the progression started small. The longer he dwelled in the mortal realm, the further it spread.”

Ashvin made a noise in his throat as he considered. “If Ezra says it no longer bothers him, there is a possibility it has stopped. However, I don’t believe this is the work of the mortal realm. The mortal realm is influenced by Death’s presence, not the other way around. It is not nearly as powerful as Naraka and Elisium.” He gently placed Ezra’s gloved hand on his abdomen and repressed a shudder at the darkness. “It feels like Naraka.” 

_Ezra_ felt like Naraka.

Surprisingly, Agni scoffed, not out of amusement, but out of bitter contempt.

“There is still a possibility we can reverse it,” Ashvin added, but he had his doubts.

Agni’s jaw muscles clenched and his gaze was sharp enough to detect Ashvin’s false reassurance.

“I will start researching and will speak to Ezra next time I visit. I did not sense any other underlying issues. He just needs proper rest.” Ashvin busied himself with gathering his things. He let a reasonable pause stretch before he toed the issue. “I _am_ immensely curious to know about his origins.” He paused. “You know,” he started deliberately with a casual tone, “I do not discuss my patients with my uncle.” 

Agni blinked slowly, evidently not baited. “I imagine curiosity is a very difficult burden to carry for lesser gods.”

Ashvin tried not to pout at the slight.

“You can keep your secrets.” He slung his bag over his shoulder. Since he was already wearing Agni’s patience thin, he might as well push just a bit further. “By the way, I heard my baby cousin was traveling with the Reaper.” He incurred the Fire God’s renewed chagrin. “Is Chitragupta here?”

With his expression carved from stone—albeit _handsome_ stone—Agni’s eyes lifted lazily to the opposite side of the courtyard. Ashvin turned, spying Chitragupta pressed against the dark windows, waving. He noticed the changes to his cousin’s appearance immediately, and his mood darkened with grief and remembrance. Chitragupta seemed to falter, understandably unsure with Ashvin’s reaction to his reappearance.

Before Chitragupta could draw the wrong conclusions, the godly physician rushed across the courtyard, elation replacing the dark ghosts of the past.

He and Chitragupta had much to catch up on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ezra was a bit disorientated this chapter, but we'll see more world building when he's up and about. 
> 
> Next chapter, [An Amethyst Braid, An Amethyst Urn] is an intermission. I'm nearly finished writing it, so I hope to get that out to you guys sometime next week around this time ;)


	12. An Amethyst Braid, An Amethyst Urn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t get too accustomed to Agni being a sweetheart. :P Also, a huge thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing this chapter ♥ Any mistakes are my own!

  1. **[Intermission:] An Amethyst Braid, An Amethyst Urn**



As pleasing as it was interacting with Ezra when he was awake and vivaciously impertinent, there was a certain appeal to a sleeping and sweetly innocent Reaper; the dark brows did not furrow, the lines of stress and stubborn persistence eased, and the abundance of thick, black lashes spread charmingly against flushed cheeks.

Agni sat at the edge of the bed, taking advantage of Ezra’s vulnerability and admiring the sight without interruption.

His finger absentmindedly traced the inseam of the fledgling’s glove as he focused on the raven-black hair fanning across the pillow. Agni found himself entranced with the texture, the deep blue-black hue, and the wayward strands that refused to lie flat. Keeping one hand securely cupped around Ezra’s gloved hand, Agni reached for a particularly stubborn strand.

Massaging the smooth strand between two fingers, he gently pulled on it, straightening out the kinky wave. As he released it, it sprang back into place, mischievously appearing even more unruly than before.

Agni’s lashes lowered with fond amusement.

Typical.

The hair was far too much like its owner. Aesthetically pleasing to the eye but exasperatingly stubborn and willful.

He sat back, tracing the patrician features and entertaining himself by identifying the shared family traits. He saw much of Rudra and Rudra’s brothers, and, while he’d never acknowledge it aloud, knowing Ezra’s view on incest, there were faint traces of himself and his siblings there. It was inevitable, given he _was_ Rudra’s fledgling—the scripture on the back of his arm only proving what was once a strong speculation now a certainty.

Ezra’s features may hold family resemblance, but Rudra was uniquely his own god, and that set Ezra further apart from the Four and Brahma.

And yet, the more Agni observed him, the more he identified a softer touch across his features. His tanned skin was just a shade darker than Rudra’s was, his eyes rounder, his lips fuller, his hair not the straight curtain Rudra had possessed.

It couldn’t be—

 _No_.

Ember Azeri must have clung on to her son enough to impart several of her features. But Agni had assumed the traits Ezra inherited from Calder and Ember would have died with his mortal body.

Agni deliberated the questions centering around Ezra’s existence.

With his deliberation came dark speculation and suspicion. The questions did not sit well with him. He wanted to know the rules, the players, and their intentions. Did Rudra ‘birth’ him before the Last War? The scripture on the back of Ezra’s arm was unusual, simply because it blatantly stated Rudra’s ownership of Ezra as if it were a brand. Children of the Trimurti were not created with such markings.

Rudra may have been feared among many for his powers and his presence, but he would not mistreat his fledgling. Had he even known about his son? Had Brahma somehow constructed Ezra himself, using his deceased brother as the sire? It was a strong possibility, and one he hadn’t entertained before.

Agni looked down as Ezra’s finger twitched, roused subconsciously by the tender touch against his.

 _“I will hold you to that promise. After all, you’re the one who started all this.”_ Ezra’s words from earlier came back to haunt Agni. The words had been spoken with a coy, teasing grin to hide the fragile vulnerability and the uncertainty lurking so far down, even Ezra wouldn’t have acknowledged it.

But Agni had sensed it, simply because it reflected his own sentiments.

A greasy film of self-disgust shrouded him every time Ezra demonstrated traits Agni had carefully entrenched in him during childhood. That self-sacrificing trait was especially difficult to watch unfold, when Ezra worked himself into exhaustion to help others while simultaneously neglecting his own health, his own feelings, and his own tragedies.

Agni curled his fingers around the gloved hand.

Ironically, Ezra turned out exactly what he had desired in a weapon, what he had desired in the God of Death.

It was only right he’d be the one to monitor Ezra and prevent him from self-destructing.

It was a fitting penance.

Staring out the open doors, he watched the beginnings of the sunset. Vibrant reds, purples, and pinks cast their hues across the endless white sands that led directly into _their_ bedroom. The silence and stillness were only broken by the pocket watch sitting deliberately on the nightstand, furiously ticking away the hours of the mortal realm.

A trinket for Ezra when he woke.

He stood from the edge of the mattress and loomed over Ezra’s slumbering form. He kept a loose hold on the gloved hand, noticing the colorful array of mourning braids on the thin wrist. So much sacrifice and tragedy for one so young. Unfortunately, the future did not appear brighter. There was nothing but thorns and obstacles waiting for Ezra, and yet, Agni would be there to shelter him from eternal sufferings.

Leaning down, he pressed a firm, lingering kiss against the fledgling’s forehead.

Agni watched, delighted, as Ezra turned his cheek against the pillow and buried into it bashfully.

Such an endearing, subconscious instinct from the fearsome and formidable Reaper.

His secret was safe with Agni.

Settling Ezra’s hand back onto the mattress, Agni exited the bedroom and ventured out onto the warm sand. He was due in the mortal realm but would need to seek out Indra first to obtain the portal artifacts. Fortunately, he did not anticipate it would take long to accomplish. 

*** * * ***

It was a solemn occasion in the Concordia Kingdom as they celebrated and mourned the passing of Ezra Zale Talise, the Royal Highness and Acting King of Concordia. The streets were outrageously crowded as every capital resident—even those as far out as Region 5—lined the route of the royal funeral procession.

The dark casket, drawn by massive black stallions, moved slowly through streets lined with mourners. Flowers—native to both the Igni and Unda people—were thrown by children and gradually piled up in the streets. Colorful rings of Igni beads were also tossed into the street, while the Unda people hailed the prince with beads encased with a nacre sheen. Incense burned, some aromas spicy, others a calming lily and ivy.

Banners and flags representing both cultures hailed the outside of shops and residencies.

It truly was a mixed celebration, appropriate for a biracial royal, and yet, every man and woman united as one by dressing in immaculate black with accents of gold. The only exception to this were King Calder and Queen Brooke Talise, who dressed themselves in pristine white, their religion entreating Varuna’s singular focus as they mourned their son and husband respectively.

The public was informed that King Calder woke just hours after his son’s passing.

A tragic thing to wake up to.

The loss of a son.

Despite undoubtedly being physically weak from the endless months of unconsciousness, King Calder rose on top of his mount two days later and escorted his son’s casket through the streets. They looked for a sign of his faltering composure, remembering how, just several months prior, the same son he now escorted to the cremation grounds was also the same son who broke down crying as they escorted the deceased Queen Ember.

King Calder showed no signs of a breakdown, however.

In fact, he showed no sign of anything as he rode his steed regally through the streets.

Next to him, Lord Josiah was in a similar state of quiet and impassive regality. He rode next to King Calder, escorting his nephew and declared Chosen to his final sendoff.

There was speculation traveling across the kingdom that Prince Ezra left a will and testament. One of the things he requested was that Brooke Talise was crowned Queen and should rule beside King Calder until their son, Mikhail Zale Talise, was old enough to take the throne and marry. Such a request went against proper protocol. Brooke Talise was not of royal blood but had rather married into the royal family. Now that her husband had passed away, the power of the crown should be given to the next qualified royal.

Further speculation suggested that King Calder would _honor_ such a scandalizing request.

It did not stop the giddiness and excitement among the women of the capital. Despite the sober affair, their attention settled on Queen Brooke, who rode in an open carriage behind her husband’s coffin. Unlike the stoicism of King Calder and Lord Josiah, however, her expression wavered from time to time, demonstrating a profound anguish that was soon cleared away with stubborn resolve.

A crowd of high nobility followed the funeral procession, shadowed by their visitors from the Terra Kingdom. And after them, members of the general public trailed with lit candles and burning incense.

The walk to the cremation grounds was a long and solemn one.

They arrived at the amphitheater where King Calder was assisted down the stairs by Lord Josiah and Councilman Irving Dover. It was a slow progression for him, but military members stood around the edge of the amphitheater, standing at attention and saluting him the entire way.

Once the royal family was situated at the front, the prince’s casket was carried down the stairs with six smartly dressed royal guards. One of them, for the first time in recorded history, was a woman. Her name—the public learned later—was Talia Bay, one Prince Ezra’s teammates during his enrollment at Concordia Military Academy. With her were the remaining two teammates, Aiden Bastia and Viktor Sedna; as well as two royal guards, Uriel Mishaal and Conway Edlen; and lastly and most surprisingly, Ladon Reva—Prince Ezra’s half-brother.

Only after the casket was properly secured over the pyre did the benches begin to fill with the public.

An overfill of spectators gathered around the amphitheater, the sheer numbers spilling across the cremation grounds in a sea of black. Hundreds could not properly see the dais below, but they remained, in honor of their prince, who had sacrificed himself for their kingdom.

Rows upon rows of expressionless and proud military members stood at the foot of the raised dais as the religious figureheads ascended the stairs to begin the ceremony. While it was a respectable service—a beautiful service—it was quite short, and several people wondered if it was a slight to the gods or if it was intentional—out of respect for Prince Ezra’s rumored distaste for long services.

Nonetheless, mantras and scriptures from both Agni’s scrolls and Varuna’s tomes were read aloud, honoring the precious soul lost to Concordia and pleading for the gods to take their precious child home to their paradise.

A heavy silence shrouded the cremation grounds when the vicar approached Prince Ezra’s casket with the ceremonial torch. When the casket was set ablaze, only a few were able to witness King Calder finally lose his composure. They’d later tell others that King Calder broke down when his son’s last link to the mortal world was destroyed.

Most wouldn’t believe the gossip, but the majority _would_ observe and witness the incredible sight of the fire turning a vivid and awe-inspiring purple.

It then overwhelmed the pyre.

The priest quickly used his water Element to quell the spread of the flames. However, once the water hit the flames, a phenomenal occurrence transpired. The purple flames roared ferociously and twisted high into the air to form—what appeared to be—a raven in midflight. Circling around him was a water serpent with incredible detail around the face and the individual scales.

Awed screams and shouts of exclamation filled the amphitheater.

Had it been two very impressive Elementals who had teamed up in preparation for this event, as a Fire Elemental had done for Queen Ember? Or did they dare hope it was their Water God and Fire God acknowledging they had received their prince’s soul? Oddly enough, while it was created from water, they assumed the serpent represented Agni, Prince Ezra’s alleged preferred god. But why a raven, others wanted to know.

Why, the prince had a pet raven, others would answer.

A raven who hadn’t been seen since the night of Prince Ezra’s death.

The gossip and excitement extended long after the service ended. Several members of the public were slow to leave the amphitheater, still in deep reflection of Concordia’s terrible loss and reflecting on the future of their kingdom. In the end, however, there was only one lone spectator sitting in the stands, staring at the dying embers of his son’s remains.

The king stood unsteadily from his position, using two crutches to support himself as he entered the royal mausoleum.

*** * * ***

Trembling fingers traced the engraved plaque that was situated underneath an urn of amethyst.

_Ezra Zale Talise_

A name gone far too soon.

Keeping one hand on the plaque—as if desperately seeking a connection with his lost son—Calder buried his face into his opposite hand and wept. The crutches from beneath his arms collapsed and he collapsed with them, unable to support himself on legs far too frail and weak. Huddled beneath his son’s urn, Calder cried fiercer than he had upon first waking and hearing the terrible news.

There was a sense of surrealism that had clung to him these past few days; only now was he hit with the reality.

He’d lost his child, and only when he’d just found him.

And for how much he’d suffered before his death—

_Cyra. The kingdom. Kai Edlen._

Calder hadn’t been there for any of it. And yet, his son had put on a valiant mask to lead Concordia when they’d needed him the most. From what he had heard, Ezra had performed magnificently as a leader.

Just as Calder had known he would.

But he still could not grasp—could not understand—how his son was gone.

It was Calder who was supposed to go first.

It was Ezra who was supposed to sit in the audience, next to his expecting wife, and watch as his father’s body burned to ash.

It was too surreal destroying his son when he was the one to create it.

The last thing Calder could remember from before his coma was the excruciating pain of dying. He remembered feeling so cold as his life trickled away from him. And just when he’d believed he had inhaled his last breath, he had come to, seeing Ezra—just as bloodied and defeated—perched over him with eyes flaring in determination. His hands had cupped over the wound on Calder’s abdomen, and gradually, the pain had receded.

_“You don’t deserve to be defined by your past actions,” Ezra had whispered with thick emotion. “It is time you are forgiven.”_

“He would be greatly troubled if he saw you in this state.”

Calder’s head shot up and his cries tapered off as he gasped for air.

He’d requested privacy and hadn’t heard anyone enter the mausoleum. Had his cries been loud enough to draw the attention of others? What would they think of a collapsed and weeping king? No. It was not a guard, nor a nobleman. The air was suddenly dry with static, and the sconces across the mausoleum had dimmed considerably.

He turned his head slowly, staring uncomprehendingly at the majestic figure standing just several paces away. Transfixed, Calder’s tears ceased as he gazed—wide-eyed—at the imposing entity. The man’s golden blond hair _glimmered_ with tones of red and blond as he stepped forward and into the light. The golden hair reached his biceps in lazy and loose waves, drawing attention to the deep-blue robe he wore.

It was too dark to observe properly, but it appeared to be Igni-inspired with faint, subtle patterns and a red sash made of silk.

Calder’s reluctantly awed scrutiny rose to the chiseled face, staring into eyes that reflected the fiercest of fires.

He knew instantly who this was.

_“Agni.”_

“I will take that as a greeting and not a cursed expression.” The shape of the eyes was mischievous, the slanting mouth seemingly set in a natural and taunting smirk. He came to a stop directly next to Calder’s collapsed form. “It is good to see you awake, Calder.”

As soon as the incredulity of the god’s imposing presence wore off, Calder’s dazed stupor was replaced with gut-wrenching grief. “Please,” he begged hoarsely. Collapsed at the feet of Agni, Calder looked up at the god, beseeching. “Is he with you in the afterlife?” His lips trembled as the anguish infiltrated through his chaotically constructed composure. “Is he—is he… _happy_?” Sorrow squeezed the air from his lungs. “At rest? He deserves—”

Calder broke off and bowed his head with defeat.

“He is finally resting, yes.”

Perhaps it was the wry and cynical tone that managed to entirely discombobulate Calder. The tears stopped falling as he looked back up at the god.

Agni stared emotionlessly down at him. “Your son…” the god trailed off and looked momentarily at Ezra’s urn. “Your son died the day he absorbed your wounds on to himself.”

Calder shook his head, a new wave of grief rousing at the implications. “No. No. That’s impossible.”

“Your daughter-in-law could explain it to you, or your brother-in-law.” Agni appeared reluctant before making the decision to lower himself onto his haunches. It was not a decision that came lightly, considering the disinclination settling in his eyes. “But it is only right I be the one to explain to you about your wife and about your son. I owe Ezra that much.”

“My…” Calder attempted to straighten from his conquered posture. “Ember? What does she have to do with—”

And then he remembered.

Ember was there.

The night he nearly died. Ember. She’d been the one to critically wound him.

“That couldn’t have been Ember,” Calder reasoned quietly. “I saw her body. We cremated it.” He looked at the urn next to Ezra’s. “She is _there._ ”

“You are mostly right. It was not the Ember you remember, but rather a warped and tragically twisted memory.” Agni steepled his hands together between his knees and observed Calder with a chilling amount of intensity. “You’re a smart man, Calder. You’ve had your speculations for quite some time. About Ezra’s importance. About the interference to your rule from Varuna and me. About the Igni and Unda war. It is time you know the full truth and move forward. You have a kingdom to rule, after all, another son to treasure, and a grandson on his way.”

At the mention of Ezra’s child, Calder’s brows drew together with renewed anguish.

“It was destined before you were even born that your son became a very vital god…”

As Agni continued his explanation, a flicker of hope began to take root among Calder’s sorrow.

Ezra was alive.

He would see his son someday soon.

*** * * ***

The parlor was cast in grey and colorless hues from the outside overcast. It was not quite dusk, but to the occupant inside the room, it might as well have been the middle of the night. She sat alone in stark isolation, the servants told to retire for the evening.

Not typically a drinker herself, Cordelia Abital sat reclined in Trent’s worn armchair with a tumbler of his favorite cognac held loosely in her hand. Though a hearth full of low, smoldering flames lit and warmed the room, her attention focused exclusively on the wall of war medals and memorabilia. Trent had always tucked them behind the liquor bottles, hiding them until the nights he needed to drink to forget.

After his death, Cordelia had mounted them proudly above the liquor cabinet for all to see.

When Cain passed, Cordelia had mounted their son’s rank and academy achievements next to his father’s.

She swallowed a mouthful of cognac and unbuttoned the high collar of her mourning gown. Another funeral. Another service and ceremony. This time for a prince far too young to have sacrificed himself in battle. One who had shown such promise on reconstructing their kingdom for the better. One whose ideas were so radical and refreshing to a society in desperate need of change and transformation.

Prince Ezra had been her only hope.

Yet even Cordelia had noticed that Prince Ezra had been a shadow of his former self after the palace attack. She did not blame him, for she too had continued existing without feeling human. The loss of a child was agonizingly suffocating. Every little remembrance of them would set a parent off into another spiral of smothering depression and nauseating grief.

Refocusing on the war medals, she couldn’t help but remember both Trent’s hatred and his admiration for those medals.

Some of the guests were sharp enough to notice and comment on them.

And Trent, with a bitter smile, would always respond with: “They gave those out to anyone who was unfortunate enough to survive.” Cordelia repeated the words with a trembling tenor, feeling Trent annunciate with her.

Whenever he had said the words, she’d felt empathy for the ghosts he carried, but never once did she _truly understand_ what he meant.

Until now.

Unfortunate survivor, indeed.

Overcome with a wave of misery and loneliness, Cordelia dropped her tumbler of cognac onto the floor and lurched forward in the armchair. Sobs wrecked her frail form as she cried for her lost family and her lost prince. There was a spasm of fear that raced through her upon the notion of feeling this way for the rest of her life. Would this crushing agony never leave? Would the losses never cease?

She’d lost everything.

“ _Varuna_! What have I done?” she cried urgently into the empty parlor. “What have I done to displease you so?”

She nearly leapt out of her skin when the rain hit her window like pelting rocks.

Leaning against her armchair, she stared uncomprehendingly at the downpour of rain that splattered and stained the window pane. Several droplets surged inside the open window, puddling onto the ground. Across the room, the parchments rustled before several fluttered to the ground. She cursed and made her way over before they could get wet.

As she stooped down low to gather them, she was nearly taken aback when she recognized the contents.

It was further research on the gender gap in Concordia. Prince Ezra had requested further analysis from her, something that would support her initial research and suggested resolutions. She hadn’t touched the research in what seemed like months, far too focused on Cain’s passing and then the conflict of the Eurus Empire and Concordia’s tragedies.

Her fingers traced over the words in wonderment.

With the rain slowly tapering off behind her, she stood and reread her notes, feeling a new sort of grief fill her.

Ezra had truly been something else.

As busy as he had been, as easily as he could have turned a blind eye to her passions, he’d been patient enough to highlight specific findings of her previous research to implore her to expand on things that he believed to be exceptional points to address to the Calder and the council.

Staring at the report, she suddenly realized that she hadn’t lost her only hope for a change in the kingdom.

What she had lost was the one man who’d been more than enough to pave the way for others to continue his work. He had accomplished so much in his short time here. He surfaced the way for women to rise above oppression. He paved the way for racial equality by implementing taskforces within the Royal Council. As a result, the entire Royal Council had readapted to his ruling and was now working together as a team as opposed to divided noble lines.

Ezra had made Brooke _Queen,_ a woman—Cordelia knew personally well—who would work closely with women’s rights and racial injustices.

And in the end, he was not just someone who had been too young to have sacrificed himself in battle. Rather, he had died protecting Concordia, giving his life for his kingdom to continue thriving in his stead.

He had laid a foundation sturdy enough that would continue thriving after his death.

The least she could do was charge forward and finish what he had started.

Leaving the parlor behind, she walked to her study, absorbed in her work, eager to resume and present this to King Calder and Queen Brooke.

Unbeknown to her, a figure lingered back in the parlor, looking offendedly at the forgotten spilled cognac and the open window that dripped water onto luxurious wood floors. “Neglectful mortals.” Sighing resentfully, he moved across the room and absorbed the liquid from the floor before exiting the parlor.

The window closed behind him.

*** * * ***

The amethyst braids hit the table with a lackluster _slap._

The trio stared at the three mourning braids before looking at one another with jaded acknowledgement. They’d been through this four times previously, the fifth time would undoubtedly be just as routine as the others. Only, this time was different. The pain was sharp and stifling in its intensity, but there was also a certain numbness that all three warriors experienced.

A certain emptiness.

 _Disbelief_.

Their leader was gone.

Viktor uncorked the bottle of whiskey and poured them all a shot. They simultaneously curled their hands around their glasses and drank to Ezra. They sat in the empty and closed distillery, the very same distillery that Viktor’s brother had once owned. Just several months prior, his brother had gasped his last drowning breath just feet away from where they sat now.

They were all dressed in their royal guard uniforms, knowing they wouldn’t have gotten this far in ranks without Ezra’s inspiration and leadership. And while they may have shared the same sentiments, no words were spoken among the trio as they all refilled their glasses.

Viktor imagined Ezra would be disappointed with the silence.

As much as their captain had been the observing and silent one—until he made a surprisingly witty comment—Viktor knew Micah had appreciated the rapport of his team. And despite his frustration at times, Micah had also appreciated Viktor’s humor.

He cleared his throat, incurring the exhausted attention from Aiden and Talia. “Do you think Wayde and Ezra would get along in the afterlife?”

Their expressions turned hooded with exasperation.

“No! I’m serious. I always wondered if Wayde and Micah would have gotten along. Wayde and Kai had been so close, but then Kai had latched onto Micah as if they’d been soulmates from the start. Now it may be a bit awkward to share each other.” Viktor made a face as he realized what he had just said. “I mean in a strictly platonic, friendly sharing way, of course.”

Talia shook her head.

Surprisingly, it was Aiden who humored Viktor. “But you forgot Keegan.”

Viktor’s face blanched. “No!”

He really had. But only for a second!

Quickly refilling their glasses, he busied himself with focusing on his drink. Across from him, Aiden’s yellow gaze cut through the darkening atmosphere of the tavern. The young Igni man smirked. “Viktor,” he started seriously, “my bet would be on Ezra finding a new friend in Wayde and making Keegan and Kai jealous enough to team up together.”

“They would never,” Talia murmured quietly, finally joining in the illusion. “Kai didn’t like Keegan. Not even for a second.”

“Well, that’s why Cain is there. He’d bridge the animosity between Kai and Keegan.”

It was a reasonable enough thought, one they all agreed on—at least enough to pour another shot into their glasses.

Talia sighed heavily and swirled her whiskey around in her glass. “I feel horrible,” she said hoarsely. “My last words to him had been so callous. After everything he had done for us…”

“Your words _were_ callous,” Viktor agreed. He incurred the sharp look of Aiden. “But it was also the truth, Talia, and we were all hurting from his distance.” He picked at the whiskey label with his fingernails and avoided their eyes. “I think it was something Ezra needed to hear. I think…I think it may have been good for him to know that we were able to move on—separately—without him.”

“Why would you say that?” Aiden demanded. “That sounds awful.”

Viktor gave a half-shrug. “I think Ezra was under a lot of pressure toward the last few months. He wasn’t our team captain anymore. He’d lost his daughter; he lost his best friend. He pretty much lost his father and was forced to rule a whole kingdom during time of war, famine, and death. The last thing he needed to hear was that we were incapable of moving on without him.”

That quieted the trio.

Viktor sighed as he refilled their glasses.

“But we didn’t really move on without him, did we?” Talia whispered. “I know I thought about him every day. I looked for him in the palace corridors. I listened to Brooke tell me about him. I was so hurt by his distance…I dealt with it the only way I knew how.”

Viktor stared at the candle on their table, watching it flicker. Aiden was just as silent. They both agreed with Talia, having found their own ways to stand alone but almost always thinking of Ezra.

“To know he’s leaving behind a baby.” Talia placed her glass against her forehead as her expression pinched with grief.

Viktor suddenly found it hard to swallow.

“I can’t believe we’re the last ones standing,” Aiden murmured into his glass. “Never would have believed we’d be the last three. Definitely didn’t think Ezra would have gone. Ever. I thought he was indestructible.”

Talia scoffed. “He was something else. And he was there for all of us as a mentor, a captain, and a friend.”

“And a king,” Aiden volunteered quietly.

Viktor inhaled deeply, feeling the stab of grief. He was far too accustomed with it being his silent passenger this past year. “What does that say about us?” he asked. “That we’re the last three standing? The others were so strong…”

“Maybe we don’t take enough risks.”

“Or maybe we’re just lucky.”

“Lucky,” Viktor rolled the word around on his tongue. “I don’t feel lucky. I feel miserable. I can’t help but to think back to our days at the academy. Or when we would just spend time together. We worked so well together as a team. We had fun together. Now it’s just us three. It’s painful. Those memories. That’s—”

“That’s just life,” Talia finished.

“Life and death.” Aiden smirked bitterly. “Both tragedies.”

As Viktor set back down the bottle, he happened to glance in the middle of the table.

He frowned.

“Where did the third braid go?”

Indeed, there were only two amethyst braids in the middle of the table when there had been three. The trio of royal guards stood up and looked around the table in search of the elusive third braid, but to no avail.

*** * * ***

Brooke stared at her plate of uneaten food before lifting her gaze and staring at the empty seat across from her.

Despite both their busy schedules, Ezra had always made time to sit with Brooke for dinner.

While he’d been incapable of eating, he would entertain her with stories or listen to her day and offer advice when he could. They’d talk politics, make fun of politics; they’d talk history or future endeavors. They’d talk about nursery designs and plans for their son’s future. There had been a different side to Ezra during evening meals. One he had never shown the public, one that had been Brooke’s one true ally and friend.

Sensing the oncoming surge of grief, Brooke leaned back in her chair and placed a hand over her stomach, drawing comfort and strength from the little one inside her that was just as much a part of her as it was of Ezra.

She couldn’t wait until he came into this world. She couldn’t wait to tell him stories of his father.

_“Mikhail,” his voice had wavered and she’d been able to hear the sheer agony in his words. “Mikhail Zale Talise.”_

She had wanted to beg him not to leave her.

But she’d known how much he had needed to leave, and she hadn’t wanted to cause him further grief.

“May I join you?”

Brooke’s eyes opened wide as she observed King Calder make his way into the dining room with the assistance of his crutches. She moved back her chair and stood at attention, watching as he shook his head and waved a hand.

“Please. Sit.” He looked at her as he placed the crutches beside his chair and settled into the position opposite of her—Ezra’s chair.

“That’s his chair,” Brooke informed, her voice high-pitched and hoarse with choked emotion.

King Calder paled and he stood abruptly.

“I apologize.” She placed a hand to her throat as she sat back down. “I just—”

“I understand perfectly.” Calder maneuvered around the table but not before he leaned his crutches against Ezra’s chair, blocking it from potential uninvited guests. He settled at the head of the table, directly to Brooke’s left. “Though his visits may be sparse and unpredictable, he should have his designated position at the table. We will keep his chair reserved.”

Brooke looked to Calder, surprised and fiercely relieved. “You know?”

Calder nodded once, his expression forlorn. “I was informed.”

“Did Ezra—?”

“Agni.”

Brooke inhaled deeply to steady herself. “Ezra said… before he left, he said he’d visit. He said he’d be here if we needed him.”

Calder raised a shapely eyebrow. “Do you have doubts?” He sat back as the servants arrived to deliver his dinner, removing the dish dome before retreating. The king eyed the Igni food with a blank look. “Agni informed me time passes differently in the god realm,” he informed once the servant departed the dining room. “For every hour there is ten hours here. Between the time difference and his obligations, I imagine he will be quite busy.”

That furthered Brooke’s sorrow.

“But I know my son well,” Calder continued quietly. “He will go out of his way to make sure we see him often.”

He picked up his fork and began eating his dinner. Brooke gradually followed suit, feeling marginally reassured now that Calder also knew about Ezra and his separate life as a deity. There were many things she wanted to ask Calder, but she recognized now may be too soon if he’d just learned of Ezra’s identity. It had taken her many days to grasp everything Ezra had told her about the god realm.

Her attention soon turned back toward the head of the table when Calder’s silverware clattered loudly against his plate. She stared in wonder as the king’s face turned brilliantly red and he pressed his napkin against his tongue. 

“I can’t believe he enjoys this,” Calder whispered urgently as he wiped his tongue. “I’d prefer to eat what Ezra typically calls ‘bland blueblood food’. At least that way, I can actually _taste_ my food.”

Brooke laughed.

“Am I—too late?” a voice inquired from the doorway.

Ladon leaned inside and looked toward his father but did not make direct eye contact. He glanced at Brooke, his eye contact just as fleeting.

“Not at all.” Calder motioned down the table. “Please sit.” Ladon glanced uncertainly at the open chair claimed by crutches before sitting next to it. “Let us see if you can tolerate the native spice of the Igni dishes.”

Ladon perked up, offering Brooke a brief smile. “I enjoy it immensely, actually.”

Calder made a noise of dissatisfaction in this throat. “It appears as if I will be the odd one out.” Another server entered the dining room, carrying a covered plate toward Ladon. “Lord Josiah had prior engagements tonight, but he will be joining us for routine evening meals. I hope this will be acceptable for everyone to continue this tradition henceforth?”

Brooke smiled genuinely and bowed her head with agreement.

“I would like that,” Ladon answered, watching as the servant set down his tray and removed the dome cover.

Only, there was nothing on the tray.

The server spluttered, his face growing pale and horrified. “My apologies, Your Majesties!” He grabbed the plate back. “I will—I will return with a properly prepared dish.”

Nearly tripping over himself, he exited the dining room under the bemused eyes of the royal family.

*** * * ***

Agni looked at the domed dishware before offering Varuna a blasé stare.

“Food, Varuna? Since when did you put any significance on mortal food?”

Varuna merely quirked an eyebrow, entirely unsurprised at his sibling’s ingratitude. “It is his favorite, is it not?” He removed the lid enough to send the spicy aroma toward Agni’s awaiting scrutiny. He then slammed the lid back shut before placing the dish on the ground between himself and Agni, refusing to carry it any longer. “It is _your_ fledgling you are trying to enliven.”

A slow, taunting grin lifted the corner of the Fire God’s mouth.

Varuna found he did not appreciate it. “What?” he asked scathingly. “Are we finished here?”

“I have a few more stops to make.” Agni glanced at the sky. “I would like to be back before Ezra wakes. It will not take long.”

And with that, Agni disappeared.

*** * * ***

Sachiel raised his glass, admiring the amber liquid inside the crystal tumbler.

Ezra had loved this brand of whiskey.

“The God of Death and Justice,” he hailed, feeling liberated for finally saying it aloud. He looked toward his guest, watching as Lord Josiah lifted his glass in silent toast. “My, my. I called it from the very start,” Sachiel boasted drunkenly. He squinted at the bottle on the table before them, marveling at the way the fire from the hearth played off the amber hues. “He was far too attractive to be a mere mortal.”

Josiah scoffed, but he did not deny it. “I’m surprised Varuna kept you knowing.”

Sachiel observed Josiah keenly. “I’m surprised Agni kept _you_ knowing.”

Josiah smiled with teeth. “There is a difference between twenty years of possession and twenty hours, Sachiel.” 

“Touché.”

He couldn’t imagine not having control over his body for _twenty years._ A few hours were enough for Sachiel. As delicious as the power and shared experience was, the thought of someone else controlling him made his skin crawl with disgust and discontentment.

Even if it was for a _god._

He wouldn’t mind sharing a body with Ezra, however.

“I do not usually partake in whiskey, but this is pleasant.” Josiah looked at his glass.

“Ezra enjoyed this particular whiskey. It can be the consecrated drink for the God of Death,” Sachiel mused thoughtfully. He squinted into this glass, relaxed, contented, and entirely candid in front of his guest. “I believe Varuna kept me knowing for a particular reason. I’m curious if it has to do with Ezra’s legacy.”

Josiah looked up sharply at that. “Legacy? As in…”

“Another god to be worshiped? Why not?” Sachiel inquired. “I’d gladly worship Ezra. He is darkly dangerous but also unbelievably good. If he is to judge our souls upon our death and decide where we are to live for eternity, I’d consider him the most important god to worship, wouldn’t you?” He noted his guest’s reservations. “You still find it hard to believe? Even when Agni possessed you for twenty years?”

“I find it hard to believe that my _nephew_ is the God of Death and Justice.”

There was something else in his tone, an emotion Sachiel could identify simply because he felt it himself. It was a difficult sentiment to overlook considering its intensity. He sipped at his whiskey, dwelling in the momentary spasm of loss and grief, before recentering himself once more. “You loved him,” he observed quietly, with a moment of victory upon realizing his guest’s frame of mind. “You miss him a great deal.”

Josiah scoffed. “If you mean ‘love him’ as an uncle would love his nephew, yes, I imagine I do, though I never had the chance to express it.”

“No,” Sachiel murmured with wicked amusement _._ Lord Josiah wasn’t about to get away so easily. He wanted someone else to suffer alongside him. “You were possessed by a Fire God lusting after Ezra for nearly twenty years. Don’t tell me that was not absorbed into you.”

The Igni Lord offered him a contemptuous look. “The extent of my affection does not truly matter, does it?”

Sachiel opened his mouth to retort that it _did_ matter and that they could _both_ reminisce on what could have been. But then he spied the figure stalking the length of his divan, analyzing his bottles of alcohol. And _oh,_ Sachiel’s mouth grew dry at the imposing specimen displayed before him. The tanned—bronzed—skin, the golden hair, and the face that was sculptured to have sharp and meticulous features.

The entity turned, locking eyes with Sachiel.

Those fiery orange-and-red eyes were alight with challenge, with scorned distaste, and instant smugness—for the entity knew he’d won in the end. With that challenge settled, the entity—Agni, _obviously_ —plucked a bottle of Ezra’s favorite whiskey from his alcohol cart and disappeared.

“No,” Sachiel replied faintly, drowning down more of his whiskey. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

He’d bow to _that_ any day.

He instantly envied and pitied Ezra.

Josiah turned a moment too late, looking at the vacant area near the alcohol cart.

His expression contorted with suspicion as he turned and delivered a pointed look at Sachiel.

“Assume we were to come up with necessary sacrifices to the God of Death,” Sachiel murmured with deliberation. “What do you believe would appease Ezra?”

Still apprehensive of what he’d most likely felt but had not been able to see in time, Josiah pondered over Sachiel’s inquiry. “Knowing Ezra,” he started distantly, “I’d say the most appropriate sacrifice one could make to the Reaper would be…” he trailed off and looked into the flames, “the death of a pompous noble.”

Sachiel blinked before he smiled indulgently. “I believe we can make something out of this, My Lord.”

It was far easier to make light. Far easier to imagine a future where Sachiel would see Ezra again. Frequently. Nevertheless, the devastating sentiment of loss was not avoidable. He and Josiah shared a knowing look before both looked down at their drinks that desperately needed a refill. He would never forget identifying Ezra for the first time during the welcoming feast at Concordia Military Academy.

So fresh. So new. So intriguing.

And Sachiel’s premonitions had been accurate. That year had not been like the rest. Ezra had single-handedly saved Sachiel from the humdrum of another repetitive academy year.

Would he be cursed to live the rest of his days without experiencing that same excitement?

He smiled fleetingly through the pain. Lifting his glass, he toasted the air and focused exclusively on that pale-eyed deviant. “To the God of Death and Justice! I will be seeing you again shortly.”

*** * * ***

In another realm, pale eyes slowly opened to a sinking sun. A resonating emptiness filled him when he determined the cause of his wakefulness, and his expression crumbled into one of devastating grief.

Pressing his eyes back closed, he willed himself to sleep again.

And forget.

At least for another few hours.

*** * * ***

The chatter in the tavern was earsplitting.

It was one of the more popular taverns in the capital, a common haunt for many warriors and military members. Tonight, it was especially crowded with additional warriors from the Terra Kingdom and all those willing to celebrate Prince Ezra together. Stories were being traded among the warriors, all eager to be in the spotlight by sharing their knowledge of the deceased and notorious royal prince.

Foam overflowed from several mugs as the bartenders worked furiously to fill rapidly incoming orders. Gold coins were thrown on top of the bar in encouragement to keep the alcohol flowing, and the bartenders capitalized on tonight’s event by offering food for the first time. Though not equipped with kitchens, the tavern was quick to refill bar nuts, sandwiches, and pretzels to anyone willing to pay an extra coin.

Gaia Slater sat at the bar next to Dunstan and Barth, listening with a half-ear as the stories raged among her people as well as the Concordia residents.

Fables, they’d call it.

But the fact of the matter was that these fables were all entirely true.

“I saw him get entirely pulverized by three air Elementals at once. Broken limbs. Broken neck. He leapt right back to his feet!” The awe upon this particular tale was enough to quiet the tavern.

“You should have seen him on the battlefield! He completely annihilated his opponents. Anyone in his way, he slaughtered them.”

“After we were led to a false sense of victory, we looked up. And we found ourselves entirely surrounded.” 

Here Gaia picked solemnly through the mix of nuts, overcome with the high emotions of the battle once more. She’d been there. Standing below the battlefield the Eurus Empire had created in the skies. She’d seen the aircrafts hovering and lingering eerily in the clouds. She remembered watching Ezra race across the fields, throwing his arm up to encompass the skies, with a shouted warning, before everything—

“Turned dark.”

“Ground trembled like crazy.”

“Fell and blacked out for a few seconds.” A heavy pause. “There were more explosives, but then something… outrageous happened.”

The entire tavern hung on to the words with baited breath. Even Gaia stopped rummaging for almonds, feeling Dunstan still unnaturally beside her. She remembered lying there, on the ground, entirely dazed and fearful of what they’d missed. _How could they have missed it?_ She had tried encouraging her people to _get up_ , they could stop these explosives if they _just got up._

“I remember feeling cold and clammy. And then there was this feeling of unease—of dread.”

“And then power! It was in the air. Like when an Elemental conjures their element, but so much more than that.”

“Prince Ezra constructed an ice dome over us,” a female warrior explained hauntedly. “And I’ll never forget the sound of the ice creaking as it curved over us and solidified. We all saw the bright flash of light; we all heard the explosion. The explosive the Eurus Empire unleashed was far larger than the others had been prior. If not for Prince Ezra, we would have likely all died.”

“On the other side of the ice barrier, those unprotected warriors had their skin and clothes burned into their bones.”

“Is that what happened to the Prince’s body?” someone whispered, perturbed. 

Gaia swallowed thickly as she recalled seeing Prince Ezra’s body after the battle. It was something she’d hope she’d eventually forget, but something that would stay with her forever. That bright, sarcastic, and entirely captivating young man—gone and destroyed.

She nudged Dunstan with her elbow. “I think I need another ale. Please?”

He smiled knowingly and motioned the bartender over.

“But that’s not all…” Someone pitched their voice low, clearly not noticing the tavern had quieted entirely. Drinks were untouched and food remained unappealing as they waited to hear the rest. “It was discovered that the several aircrafts—overhead at the time of Prince Ezra’s death—were all found later in various locations, encased with ice. No sign of the Eurus warriors on board.”

“Once we were able to escape the ice dome with the aid of fire Elementals, there were no enemies in sight. They had completely vanished.”

Wicked speculation and gossip spread across the tavern then, and Gaia had no heart to find their behavior absurd. It was, after all, the truth. They had a right to spread the stories across the kingdom, for Prince Ezra died a hero and the events that transpired after his death were a mystery. Gaia had her own speculations. Prithvi had once told her that Ezra was chosen by Agni for an important purpose.

What could be more important than godhood? It would explain how those frozen aircrafts were found scattered all over the place after Ezra’s death.

A full mug of ale slid in front of Gaia, and she gladly cupped it between her hands.

“I think the gods blessed Prince Ezra,” someone murmured. “I think they blessed him as the _Ice God_ in his afterlife, and he came to finish the mortal war.”

There were not many voiced agreements with that statement, but it was enough to plant seeds of doubt and assumption among many. The stories told in the tavern that night would be spread across the kingdom, immortalizing Prince Ezra with his last act of sacrifice.

And several citizens soon began to speculate that there was more to the story of Prince Ezra.

Eventually, the truth would come to light, and while several remained skeptical, even more would ultimately pay tribute to a new, more relatable god.

*** * * ***

The capital had their ceremony. They were allowed their time of mourning.

It was the desert regions who celebrated that night.

Bonfires raged across Region 10 and Region 20 as the Igni people danced around the flames, praying to Agni to take their prince and hold him dear. Paper lanterns filled the skies as they all gave thanks and bade farewell to their chosen leader. Despite the attempt to raise their spirits and celebrate the life of Prince Ezra, there was a general mood of apprehension and doubt among their people.

Prince Ezra had been their advocate. He’d been their face and their hope for a change.

What would become of them now?

More oppression? More suffering? More screaming into the void without being heard?

News traveled fast of Prince Ezra conceiving a child. Could they wait that long before the new heir made changes? What of the changes Prince Ezra had put into motion before his death? Would they continue despite the prince’s absence? Or would everything go back to the stagnant progress it had been before Price Ezra reappeared to claim his throne? They’d relied on Lord Josiah once, but to avail.

Would the unborn heir even hold the same pride and respect for the Igni people as his father had before him?

As if answering their fears and uncertainties, the raging fires all turned a brilliant yellow before flickering back to orange. They stretched higher and higher into the skies, spurring the shocked Igni people to rejoice with renewed faith.

Yes, they thought. 

They would be alright.

*** * * ***

The next time Ezra opened his heavy eyelids, he did not wake to a bleeding sunset, but rather a night sky full of stars that descended from the heavens like rain. He was in an unfamiliar bed—an unfamiliar room—and an unfamiliar space. Yet the body that curled protectively behind him was _familiar_. An even more familiar hand roved down his shoulder and around to his chest.

“I brought you your favorite food, some whiskey, and a few trinkets,” the familiar voice murmured into his ear.

Ezra lifted his lashes, staring at the nightstand that was encased in gentle, non-invasive candlelight. The hollowness in his chest resounded painfully as he identified a few familiar objects that represented much of his mortal life. A small, instinctive part of Ezra wanted to be upset with Agni for going without him. Yet another part—a larger part—knew he wouldn’t have wanted to go.

Not yet.

His eyes lingered on the braided material wrapped around the neck of a whiskey bottle.

The lump in his throat was incredibly painful.

His arm felt like lead as he reached towards it, his fingers just barely skimming the braid before he collected it in his grasp. Cupping it in his palm, he brought it close and stared at it with a sense of disbelief.

“Will you not eat? It will get cold.”

Ezra stared at the braid before looking at the plate of food, his stomach rebelling at even the thought. But then he remembered one of their many first dinners together at the academy when Agni had refused to reheat his dish—a chastisement of sorts for being late and keeping him waiting. A wry half-grimace–half-smile twisted his lips as he turned his head, meeting the smoldering gaze of Agni from over his shoulder.

“Will you keep it warm for me?”

The eyes lightened with instant recollection.

On the nightstand, small flames suddenly danced beneath the plate.

“Just this once, _charu_.”

Ezra smiled genuinely before turning his head back around and staring out into the night sky.

His gaze unfocused as he persistently and subconsciously rubbed the amethyst braid between his fingers. Meanwhile, the familiar arms were steadfast around him, keeping tight hold lest he drift someplace he could not come back from.

He’d rely on those arms tonight.

But tomorrow…

Tomorrow he’d stand on his own once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Notes] Shout out to the reader who wondered if Agni would ever keep Ezra’s food warm [in reference to Part I during their dinner together].


	13. Discovering the Lost and Elusive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for editing the chapter ♥ Any mistakes you see are my own.

  1. **Discovering the Lost and Elusive**



_The air was stale with anxious quiet._

_It was not a tranquil silence, but rather a tempestuous stillness as every creature and entity waited uneasily for the silence to shatter. Above, the red sky cast the town in deep shadow and unnerving shades. One knew better than to venture on the streets when the dark skies blazed a murky red. Yet there was one occupant who boldly made their way down the middle of the street._

_Eyes strained from dark corners as they watched the figure amble confidently past._

_With a disarrayed and haunted appearance, the figure dragged a heavy sword behind them. The tip of the blade emitted a high-pitched screech as it dug into the cobblestone streets. Those in the shadows hunched even further away, desperately seeking the darkness in fear the noise had drawn attention to their hiding places._

_Suddenly, as if sensing the figure’s challenging confidence, a distant and uncanny howl shattered the silence._

_The figure looked up through matted, dark hair, and a fierce smile crossed their features._

Ezra jerked awake, momentarily disoriented as the dream clung ravenously to his senses. Somehow, it had seemed familiar to him, and that familiarity gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Gradually, however, the dream began to lose its shape, leaving nothing behind but a sense of disquiet.

His anxiousness quelled when firm, assertive lips pressed against the sensitive area beneath his ear before proceeding to plant featherlight touches down the path of his jugular vein. Ezra smirked lightly into the pillow, feeling an equally firm and assertive hand claim his hip. He made a noise of sleepy intrigue as he arched against the hand, immensely smug when it palmed his ass.

He always had a way of making Agni do what he wanted.

“I enjoy this, truly,” Ezra croaked sleepily. As his lips moved across the smooth and cool pillowcase, he inhaled the Fire God’s scent that was entrenched deep within the fabric. It was a musky, heated aroma with faint traces of what smelled like amber and cedarwood. “But perhaps we can resume at a more reasonable hour?”

“You’ve been sleeping long enough and I grow bored.”

Agni made it sound as if Ezra were a new pet that he’d brought home, one that continued to dissatisfy him by sleeping and not playing. Ezra squeezed his eyes more securely closed in order to muffle his amusement. “God knows how you’ve managed this long without me,” he said wryly into the pillow.

Agni nuzzled Ezra’s neck with his nose, clearly imitating Ezra’s earlier actions by inhaling his scent.

“You smell like battle, Indra, and the mortal realm—”

“All three very unlikely possibilities…”

“Not exactly the first scents I was hoping would fumigate our new sheets.”

Ezra lifted a single eyelid, confused when he saw it was still night outside the open patio doors. “The odor may not be so predominant if you removed your face from my neck.”

Agni ignored the comment. “I will show you where to bathe. Come.”

Ezra pressed his face further into the maroon sheets, not wanting to move. Not only was the bed one of the most comfortable things he’d ever slept on, but his limbs still felt heavy and he was so _tired._ He wasn’t one to typically dwell over his lethargy, but it was especially difficult getting the energy to move. “It’s still night,” he reasoned. “Is this—is this some sort of godly ritual? Waking up in the middle of the night to bathe?”

“Elisium has an equal number of hours of nightfall as it does daylight. You’ve been asleep for nearly eight hours.” A feigned sigh. “Must I carry you, child?”

“You’d enjoy that, now, wouldn’t you?” Ezra sat up, refusing to entertain the possibility of Agni following through with his threat.

“It would truly take little effort, considering you are—”

“I’m _up_.”

Seething, Ezra shoved his legs over the edge of the bed. His hand clenched reflexively to soothe out its cramp, noticing belatedly that he still clutched the purple mourning braid. Feeling a resonating emptiness rush to the surface, he looked to the nightstand, finally recalling the events of last night. The whiskey was still there—a particular brand he knew Sachiel kept fully stocked—as well as a silver pocket watch with intricate engravings.

He stared at the offerings long enough to fight off his grief. Last night, he had remembered that light pressure at the base of his skull as the words had been breathed quietly into his ears—words he’d known had belonged to Sachiel.

Those words had ruined him.

“Are prayers often distracting?” Ezra asked quietly. “You must have thousands a day.”

“You grow accustomed enough to tune them out.” If Agni sensed Ezra’s melancholy, he did not acknowledge it; rather, he continued his explanation in a painstakingly formal and educational manner. “The more prayers there are, the less distinct they become. They blur together and become a mere drone. Eventually, you’ll be able to train yourself to listen for specific mortals.”

Ezra stroked the braid restlessly, his gaze distant, his emotions fighting to rise above the obstinate barricade.

“I know you were never one for baths,” Agni continued in lieu of Ezra’s solemn silence, “but I believe you’ll appreciate these particular bathing quarters.”

“Agni,” Ezra started exasperatedly, “I didn’t appreciate baths as a _child_ and have since learned the importance of bathing oneself.” He turned to look at the god from over his shoulder, meeting the serious gaze of Agni. He had to scoff at the god’s ridiculousness.

“Not ‘appreciating’ them is an understatement. You used to hide from the palace caretakers and seek me out.”

“What a foolish child I was…running to the very same monster who wanted—and succeeded—in destroying my innocence.”

Agni stared at him expressionlessly before a slow, sinful smile curled the edges of his mouth. Leaning forward on his hands, he moved across the mattress and hovered at Ezra’s shoulder. Fiery eyes turned hooded as he leaned in close, their noses a scant inch apart. “Even for one so young, you had a proclivity for danger and debauchery.”

Ezra smirked as a small chill made its way down his spine. Agni was emitting that palpable darkness again, the same impression that had made Ezra believe—initially—that Agni had been an entity of evil before he’d discovered his deity status. His mind refocused sharply as he felt Agni’s fingers stroke the back of his bare arm, running over the tattoo he’d discovered not even a day prior.

Had it only been a day?

The tattoo reminded him of all the questions he’d accumulated, all the assumptions and the suspicions.

And yet—

Ezra leaned back, pressing his back against Agni’s broad chest. He angled his head further over his shoulder to nuzzle at Agni’s neck. Between the unfathomable darkness emitting from the outside and the gentle glow around the room, the ambience was prime for something Ezra had wanted—needed—for _so_ long.

“Perhaps a bath is a bit premature.” His hand reached out, instinctively grabbing at Agni’s loose hair. His fingers clutched and fisted the golden strands, pleased with the soft feel beneath his greedy hands. _Oh,_ what he wanted to do with it. “We might as well take advantage of the uncleanliness.”

Agni lowered his head and kissed the corner of Ezra’s coy smirk. Taking advantage of Ezra’s reclined form, Agni’s hand roved possessively down his bare chest. The long, teasing fingers played with the light definition across his abdomen before dipping confidently below the waistband of Ezra’s trousers. Nails scraped teasingly against his groin before Agni pulled his hand away.

Ezra blinked at the unexpectedly brief play, looking questioningly up at the god.

Cradling him from behind, Agni lowered his head once more, nuzzling the tip of his nose across Ezra’s temple before following the path of his jawline. Agni kissed his throat, once, twice, before nipping quickly.

The pain was sharp and fleeting.

“We will have more than enough time to continue this.”

“We will have more than enough time for _baths_ ,” Ezra countered once he recognized Agni’s words as a soft rejection. How long had it been since they’d had sex? The answer came to him quickly; after all, how could he have forgotten the intense session the night of the Igni festival? That was nearly half a year ago.

Agni slowly detangled himself and stood from the bed.

He looked down at Ezra, most likely seeing the question there. “I am eager to show you your new home. Humor me, _charu_.”

Ezra did not reply, but he conceded.

If Agni was not in the mood, he wasn’t one to force the issue.

Agni gathered the purple mourning braid from Ezra’s fingers before tying it around his wrist with all the others. “We will have to determine a new place for these,” Agni murmured as he knotted the fabric. “Now that you have a permanent residency here, we will sort out a good place for your mortal realm valuables.”

Ezra stared at the nightstand, having just noticed the erroneous absence of one particular item. “Agni? Where is my food?”

“You took too long to partake,” came the unsympathetic response. “You can’t expect it to taste edible after hours under heat.”

Ezra flashed the hovering god an unhappy look before searching the floor next to the bed. “Where are my _boots_?”

Agni appeared unaffected at his rising irritation and nudged a pair of leather-strapped sandals toward a barefooted Ezra. “A perfectly good pair of sandals awaits you. Far more functional for bathing quarters and deserts as opposed to heavy monstrosities.”

Ezra stared at them blankly. “But far less practical for unexpected battles.”

“Who do you believe will battle you in my territory, child?” Agni inquired with wry amusement. “The nearest portal for uninvited guests is several miles into the desert. If they do not have transportation suitable enough, the heat will stop them long before they can engage you in battle. If, by that point, you still cannot defeat them in sandals, it is best you reevaluate your worth as a warrior.”

He nudged the sandals closer.

“Sandals are very popular here and have been since the start of time. Many gods and goddesses decorate their feet with jewelry and henna. As well, it is often a place to display wealth and marital status.”

Ezra curled his lip, staring at the sandals as if they committed a personal offense. His attention then landed on Agni’s own sandals, more specifically, his naked toes. “Where is your jewelry to declare your ‘divorced’ status?” The hand swatted at him, though Ezra ducked away before it could make contact.

“I anticipate there will be a gold _bichiya_ adorning our toes soon enough.” Agni turned and descended the three stairs leading up to the platform bed.

“Bichiya?”

“A toe ring. One of the various symbols deities wear that signifies marriage. Gods wear a _bichiya_ on their big toe while goddesses wear theirs on the second toe of each foot.”

Ignoring the pleasant, albeit fearful spasm at the mention of ‘marriage’, Ezra preoccupied himself with slipping his feet into the sandals. The bottom was a soft leather and there was a layer of cushion that easily supported the arch of his foot. They were unbelievably comfortable, but he wasn’t about to tell Agni that. He would find his boots before any mention of _bichiyas_ or _jewelry_ could be said again.

Once he had both sandals on, he stood slowly from the bed and assessed his surroundings.

It truly was a handsome bedroom, something, he imagined, that would have been seen in a royal palace in the old Igni Empire.

The large bed, currently a mess of deep maroon–and–sand-colored sheets, was situated on top of a platform with a nightstand on both ends. The bedroom was round with several keyhole-shaped arches framing the perimeter of the room. As Ezra looked up, he noted the ceiling was high—nearly two or three stories tall—with a decorated dome ceiling.

Rope lighting encircled the lip of the ceiling, illuminating the dome and making it appear like an incandescent full moon. There were several sheer curtains hanging around the room, the ultra-fine fabric glowing ethereally from the subtle lanterns placed deliberately on the smooth, ceramic floors. While the room was mostly bare, the small placements of potted cacti and patterned lanterns gave the room a comfortable feel. 

He descended the few steps of the platform bed and walked across the room toward the massive patio doors. The doors were both open and a copious amount of white sand spilled onto the floors of the bedroom.

Ezra’s breath hitched as he stared out into the night. “This is—”

Before he escaped to the outside, he crouched down and considered the white sand. The sand particles sparkled from the dim lighting of the bedroom as well as from the mass of stars outside. He reached forward with his bare hand, touching the sand. Grabbing a fistful of the surprisingly cool sand, he let it run through his fingers like sand from an hourglass.

So cool. So smooth.

And it stretched as far as the eye could see.

Ezra stood and slowly ventured out the doors and into the night. Sand dunes, made entirely of white, pristine sand, rippled across the horizon, some peaking high above all others like distant mountains. The stars were incredible. While the Concordia capital had beautiful stars, Region 20 surpassed all other areas of the kingdom. One could stare out in all directions and see an endless blanket of stars.

But here…it was…

Ezra didn’t even know how to describe it.

There were nearly more stars than sky and they fell periodically from their positions, streaking across the night with blazing, illuminating tails. Oddly enough, there were two moons in the sky. One a full silver, the other a crescent blue.

“Why two moons? Do they serve a specific purpose?”

“There is a lot of emphasis placed on the lunar cycle in Elisium. The Moon God, Chandra, brought the mortal moon here after falling in love with a mortal. It’s the blue one.” Agni nodded toward the blue crescent moon and Ezra honed in on it obsessively. “A _pandita_ —or, as you would call it, a scholar—will keep track of the phases. As well, many deities grow stronger when both moons are in full phases, such as Yamuna for fertility purposes.”

There was so much to learn.

If the moon had such a backstory, Ezra couldn’t imagine how many other things he’d discover.

“You’re aware of the time difference between the realms,” Agni continued. “A full day here is approximately ten days in the mortal realm. If you watch the moon throughout the night, you’ll notice it gradually change phases. It’s even present during the day, though it is subtle and often hard to find.”

“It’s remarkable,” Ezra said softly. “All of it is remarkable.”

“Look to the north.” Agni appeared at his side, placing a hand to his shoulder and turning him to the right.

The white sand dunes must have been located to the west, for when Ezra turned in the direction of Agni’s guidance, the endless sands gradually disappeared, and in their place was rocky terrain, vast desert vegetation, and spectacular canyons. The face of the canyons was cast in blue, reflecting the light of the crescent moon. Ezra could only imagine what they looked like during sunrise and sunset.

Among the quiet and calm of night, the katydids and crickets boldly made their presence known, creating a symphony of harmonious melodies. There was a faint glow in the skies to the north, spearmint green and purple painted the stars in confident undulating strokes, their presence subtle, but entirely breathtaking.

Everywhere he looked was full of color and splendor.

The air itself seemed to carry a pleasant weight, rejuvenating Ezra’s lungs with each breath inhaled.

Staring across the desert gave him a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt in—

Well, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this at peace. A part of him wondered if it was acceptable to feel this way when there was still so much to accomplish, to learn, to solve. The guilt settled, but he quickly attempted to tuck it away. It was acceptable to enjoy this. At least for a moment or two.

“I could look at this forever.”

“That is the idea.”

He turned, realizing Agni did not have his attention focused on the desert but rather on Ezra.

The Fire God smiled lightly. “There is much yet to see. I look forward to showing you other sights during the day. You will enjoy the canyons and the hot springs.” He reached out and grasped Ezra’s gloved hand. Maintaining fierce eye contact, he raised Ezra’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “I am pleased you find it satisfactory.”

“Satisfactory?” Ezra scoffed while instinctively trying to tug his skeletal hand back. “It’s extraordinary and I haven’t even seen everything.” Flustered with the intense regard from Agni and the way the god held on to his deformed flaw, Ezra managed to turn and lead Agni back into the bedroom. “But you were hard-pressed for a bath. I have high expectations for this.”

Agni followed him obediently, his eyes knowing as he dropped Ezra’s hand and led him through one of the many archways situated around their bedroom. They crossed through a corridor, one side a smooth stucco finish, the other open to a courtyard. It was different from the courtyard Ezra woke up to several hours prior, simply because this one had a pool.

He stared at the water that was as still and motionless as cut glass. Lanterns hung from the corridor ceiling, casting large, looming shadows near the columns that separated the corridor from the courtyard.

“Agni,” Ezra started, “just how large is your home?”

Agni led him down the corridor. “You will get to see for yourself how large our home is.”

Ezra noted the correction of the possessive pronoun, but did not comment on it. All this was still far too surreal for him. “And I assume there is no town or other residents living in your territory.”

“You would assume correctly.”

Agni led him down a flight of stairs that appeared to be located below the bedroom, for the staircase curled and spiraled around the circular perimeter. There were only a few scones lighting their way, drawing attention to the uneven stone walls and the lack of architectural detail compared to above. It appeared more like an underground cavern.

“And despite how large the house is and how desolate the territory is, you claim Skanda and Chitragupta cannot live here?”

Agni glanced at Ezra from over his shoulder, his expression dour. “You heard Indra. No creatures from Naraka are allowed in Elisium.”

Mirth bubbled up Ezra’s throat and he laughed unexpectedly, the sound reverberating across the stairwell. “The only time you’d adhere to Indra’s orders is if it suits your own purposes.” He grinned when Agni made a noise of agreement in his throat. “They keep well enough away. I haven’t seen them since we arrived.”

“That is because they wish to stay here and are on their best behavior.”

They finally cleared the steps, and Agni led Ezra toward a tunneled entrance. The Fire God stepped into the passageway that was irradiated with small, single flames. Ezra hesitated, thinking the ground was flooded with water, for the flames reflected vividly off the ground. Only, as he stepped into the tunnel, the ground was solid.

Using the toe of his sandal, he slid it across the rock, realizing it was a glossy and smooth finish.

“Once given permission,” Agni continued, “Chitragupta will be barging into rooms without prior warning, and Skanda will be watching with disapproval every time you and I make eye contact. And Kai Edlen? Edlen will be taking up far too much of your time.”

At the mention of Kai, Ezra’s mood teetered between sorrow and enthusiasm. Kai was the one person Ezra could— _maybe_ —keep hold of. Ironic that he’d grown upset at Agni for destroying Kai’s existence when Agni had essentially done it to give him a companion on the other side. At the time, Ezra rebelled against needing anyone, especially if it had meant sabotaging Kai’s only chance at a normal existence.

Now… the thought of seeing Kai again, after everything that had happened…

He didn’t dare hope and speculate. Things had the tendency to fall apart.

They walked down the tunnel together, the air progressively thickening and the temperature rising considerably. Their surroundings were cast in gold and amber hues as the flames flickered across the chiseled walls. A visible cloud of mist shrouded the air as they neared the sounds of rushing water. As they exited the tunnel, they entered a room that immediately illuminated upon Agni’s presence.

Subtle light shed across the cavern and highlighted the body of water situated in the middle of the room. Water traveled over several boulders before falling into the swirling and foaming pool of water. The bath—more like a pool—wasn’t overly large, but it was sizable enough for several people.

The cavern itself appeared settled within the rock—as if someone had recently carved a hollow in the rocky earth to create a sweltering, albeit comfortable bathing room. The air was hot and humid enough to purify his lungs, and the warm glow from the flickering lights made him want to curl back into bed. 

“You do not enjoy being underground, but—”

“But it’s endurable. The ceilings are high enough.” After a cursory look at the ceiling he turned and smiled slyly at Agni. “You’re going to join me, yes?” He took a step closer to Agni and ran a hand down the god’s chest before finding the silk sash with his fingers.

“Not today,” Agni replied huskily as he watched Ezra’s playful ministrations with predatory eyes. “I am going to wash your hair.”

Undaunted, Ezra crept even closer until they were toe to toe and separated by a mere inch. He tugged mischievously at the sash, unwrapping it and sliding it off the god’s waist. Agni’s robe fell open, revealing a low cut, sleeveless undershirt. Ezra’s fingers played with the bare skin across Agni’s chest, scraping slowly and seductively.

“I can wash my own hair. I’d rather you keep me company _in_ the water.”

Agni leaned forward, capturing Ezra’s eyes with his own. “As delectable as that sounds for future exploits, right now I will find greater pleasure in making you feel good without it escalating into anything sexual.”

Ezra removed his hand and considered Agni skeptically. He wanted to argue. He wanted to point out that it had been twice now that Agni had turned him down. Three, if he counted their bedroom _play_ in which Agni refused to penetrate him.

Agni was creating physical distance and that was entirely _unlike_ the god.

Ezra was more likely to be the one pulling away from Agni. He never had to work at seducing Agni.

A strange sense of insecurity made him question Agni’s motives. They hadn’t been reunited for long, yet it had felt as if they hadn’t been separated at all. Three, almost four months without Agni, and Ezra had fallen back into their rapport without much need for adaptation. He’d believed Agni had felt the same, judging from his reactions the day he’d grounded.

But maybe the days without Ezra had made him reconsider his—

Hands suddenly grabbed his face and lips captured his mouth in a searing kiss. Ezra leaned into Agni, hungry at the contact. His hands gripped Agni’s undershirt and fisted the material as he raised himself on his toes to deepen the kiss. Agni made an amused noise in his throat, his hands enclosing around Ezra’s head and applying a significant amount of pressure.

The hands suddenly dropped to Ezra’s hips and tugged forcibly at his trousers.

Agni broke the kiss and pressed his cheek against Ezra’s. They stood like that in silence, with Agni’s fists remaining stagnant around the waistband of Ezra’s trousers. The Fire God’s breathing came out in breathless pants, an indication of the god’s arousal. “Drop your pants, get into the water, and stop thinking so much,” he commanded lowly into Ezra’s ear.

At the displeased order, Ezra’s teeth clenched to stem the arousal.

He pulled back marginally, catching the heated and fixated eyes of Agni, and his excitement escalated further.

Exhaling levelly, Ezra took a step backward, and then another, maintaining eye contact as he toed off his sandals and dropped his trousers. Under the stern eyes of Agni, he turned his shoulder and walked assuredly down the few steps before submerging himself in the blissfully warm water. Behind him, he heard something that sounded suspiciously like a ‘good fledgling’, but he chose not to acknowledge it.

His muscles melted.

Ezra nearly went limp with the sensations wracking his body.

The temperature wasn’t scalding nor uncomfortably hot, but there was pressure coming from all angles. He sidled up to a particularly powerful jet of water and placed his back against it.

He closed his eyes, feeling his tight limbs relax. He hadn’t even known he had carried so much strain until he was finally allowed to let go. And letting go proved to be more than just his body’s harsh demands. Sitting on the underwater ledge, he bowed his head and turned motionless, taking in the smells and sounds of the cavern in order to ground himself.

It wasn’t easy keeping his mind off the events he so desperately wanted to forget.

Pretending there was no pain—no loss—seemed to make it worse. There was only so much he could take before pretending proved futile. 

With his head still bowed, he opened his eyes to his gloved hand submerged in water. The array of colorful mourning braids seemed almost serene as they moved gracefully with the flow of water.

“I have noticed, while you mostly bury yourself in work now, when you were younger, you sought out physical contact when you felt especially anxious or in need of control. A heavy workload, and relying on others as a fun distraction, will not get you through your grief.”

Agni could put whatever spin he wanted on his distance, but Ezra knew there was more to it than that.

“Laying with me will not erase the events that occurred.”

“No,” he said mournfully to the water, “but it would feel good enough to dull the ache.”

“I want you to overcome this without avoidance.”

Ezra finally looked up, spying Agni sitting at the ledge on the other side of the tub. “There is too much to overcome,” he confessed, hoping his words were washed away with the stream of water. “Why can’t I just move on my own way? This bath will not give me sudden enlightenment and peace, Agni. What I need are years to recover. But you and I both know I don’t have years.”

“I don’t believe you are even capable of coming to peace with your losses. What are years when you’ll spend those years avoiding such thoughts of loss and sacrifice?”

“Time heals all wounds.”

Agni shook his head once. “Foolish child, wounds unattended are prone to further injury.” His stare cut through the hazy cavern. “Which will happen if you step foot in Naraka with an unstable mind.”

“My mind is solid.” Ezra sank further in the water, exhausted. “Fortunately, as much as you’d like to criticize my method of mourning, I have mastered it well over the years. I am capable of setting aside my vulnerabilities enough to focus on my goals and tasks. Trying to crack me open and reconstruct my way of thinking will only lead to my downfall.”

He and Agni stared each other down.

“Besides,” Ezra started lowly, “who are you to speak of proper mourning behaviors?”

Red-orange eyes widened a fraction before they narrowed. “I am not the Reaper where a strong mentality is vital.”

“Your powers are just as destructive as my own; therefore, a strong mentality is just as vital for you.”

He broke eye contact to tip back his head and submerge it into the water.

He realized Agni’s dilemma and reluctantly empathized with it.

Ezra had lost much during his childhood, but he’d grown resilient enough to keep moving forward. It had never been about what he felt or how unfair he believed his life to be. There’d been too much to accomplish. What had mattered was taking care of his mother. What had mattered was surviving. There were those who had been less fortunate and less capable than himself. Those who had proved themselves deserving had earned Ezra’s support.

And Agni had encouraged such adaptation.

Now that Ezra meant more to him than a mere pawn, it was undoubtedly difficult for Agni to see Ezra exhibiting those qualities. He’d feel determined to see Ezra display a healthier alternative.

Like _talking_ about it, acknowledging it, or actively grieving.

He raised his head back up, noticing the stubborn and obstinate tightness around Agni’s mouth.

Agni wasn’t going to let this drop.

“It is better to keep the weapon at the ready than to dismantle it, Agni.” It was the second time that day Ezra had taken Agni off guard. The god was more careful this time displaying his surprise, yet Ezra could feel their bond _twang_ with a bitter and hollow vibration.

Agni’s stare smoldered at that challenge. “It took me twenty years to build that mentality. I have eternity to dismantle it the right way.” He looked down and picked up a ceramic jar. “Now come. I promised you a proper wash.” He observed Ezra’s reluctance and made a noise of exasperation. “Must you always be so difficult, child?”

“It seems mundane and surreal for us.”

“It?”

“Washing each other’s hair.”

Agni pressed his lips together. “I apologize.” He placed down the jar. “What I should have done, initially, was drag you from bed and throw you into the dueling room to fix that absurd habit of leaving your feet in battle.”

Ezra lingered on his side of the tub. “Sounds far more reasonable.”

“We will certainly be doing a lot of sparring,” Agni said. “But we cannot always be sparring—physically or verbally. I would very much like to spend time doing ‘mundane’ things with you as well.” He looked across the whirling waters at Ezra. “Are you uncomfortable with that notion? Spending time together and enjoying ourselves?”

Ezra hesitated.

He always enjoyed spending time with Agni. The Fire God had a way of taking his mind off things and making him feel capable while simultaneously challenging him. But—

Ezra’s fingers ghosted the rocks behind him. “I like the way things are.”

_I don’t want that to change along with everything else._

Agni seemed to understand what Ezra did not say. “I assure you, washing your hair will not erase any tension or pleasant friction between us. I’m afraid that will be near impossible to destroy given our individual temperaments.”

Reassured to know Agni enjoyed their current dynamic just as well, Ezra ducked below the surface of the water and swam toward Agni’s side of the tub. As he broke the surface, he blinked past the water in his eyes to focus on the delightful specimen presented before him. The god had rolled his pants to his knees, submerging his feet in the water and creating enough room between his legs for Ezra to maneuver. He’d also discarded his robe, his sleeveless undershirt displaying those strong forearms Ezra revered so much.

Ezra’s eyes lingered across the god’s hair, realizing he’d tied it back to give his perspiring skin a reprieve from the heat.

Agni watched him keenly in turn, appearing victorious as Ezra moved assertively between his legs and pressed himself against the god like a claim. Strong hands raked through Ezra’s wet hair, immediately causing the younger god to tense with anticipation.

“You would have enjoyed your cremation service,” Agni said. “There was a large turnout.”

Ezra immediately frowned.

Was this Agni’s way to get him to dwell on things? He had assumed Agni had dropped the topic.

Agni applied a pleasant-smelling shampoo and began working it into Ezra’s scalp, his pressure unrelentingly firm and possessive. “The citizens were speculating a great deal about your abilities on the battlefield. Some were even right to assume you were granted deity status upon your death. Every single mortal praised your sacrifice to the kingdom and mourned the brilliant mind they’d lost.”

Ezra closed his eyes. 

“The Igni men and women celebrated their savior long into the night.”

It was hard to swallow. “Stop.”

“There are quite a few men and women who are going to make fundamental changes to Concordia, and they have you to solely thank.”

“Agni—”

“Rinse.”

Agni pushed down Ezra’s head, dunking him under the water. Fortunately, there’d been ample amount of forewarning for him to take enough air in his lungs, for Agni ran his hands persistently through Ezra’s hair underwater, shaking it free from the soap. Fingers then curled into his hair and pulled his head from the water.

“Who taught you how to wash hair?” Ezra demanded.

Agni leaned forward, noting the defiance still rebelling brightly in Ezra’s eyes. “We didn’t get out all the suds. Rinse.”

And he went down again.

This time, after struggling with the tenacious hands, Ezra felt the fight leave him and he turned lax, realizing exactly what Agni wanted.

When he was pulled back up, Agni was already talking.

“Acknowledge all the good you have done for the mortal realm, Ezra. The work you’ve done was cut short, but it was enough to transform the lives of several individuals who will continue your work. You will see Calder again. You will see your son born and grow.” Agni pulled him closer and applied a warm liquid on his hair. “You’re a god now. Look forward to all the new things you will learn and all the changes you will implement here. The things you are most passionate about have a place here in Elisium. Give me time to show them to you.”

“I _am_ looking forward to it,” Ezra said once the disorientation cleared from his head. “But—”

“But you’re grieving. You are unhappy. And it is a perfectly normal sentiment to feel. However, there is no reason to bottle it up and pretend you do not experience the pain.”

Ezra sulked, allowing Agni to say his piece without arguing.

“Some days will be easier than others. Some hours will feel like pure agony, while others will make you feel guilty for how little you thought of the ones you left behind.” Agni’s nails raked down Ezra’s scalp. “And no one will think any less of you for experiencing these things.”

Ezra _did_ look forward to this new beginning.

What held him back from fully embracing his new reality was the sense of surrealism and unfamiliarity. Most importantly, what hurt the most was leaving all his loved ones back in the mortal realm. However, Agni was right. The mortal realm now had the tools and the opportunity to make Concordia the kingdom Ezra knew it could be. Moreover, he’d return. He'd visit.

But this was where he needed to be.

If he needed to focus on his future duties and obligations to get through this, then so be it.

Fingers rubbed deep into his scalp, eliciting a pleased noise from Ezra. “The oil treatment is a much smoother application,” Agni murmured as he worked his hand down Ezra’s scalp before rubbing at his neck. “You can relax. No rinsing quite yet.”

Ezra smiled faintly.

They sat in silence for quite some time, Agni having gotten his point across and Ezra merely enjoying the ministrations of the strong hands. The oil was warm and soothing as it worked the tension from his neck. Agni even massaged his shoulders long enough to make Ezra limp with relaxation. Toward the end, as Agni finished his hair, he had to keep propping Ezra upright with a hand to his chest.

The rinsing was far more tolerable the next time around, with Agni properly cradling his neck and head as he rinsed the oil from his hair. Ezra’s eyes—which had closed in bliss—immediately opened and then narrowed when he heard a light scoff from Agni.

“What is so funny?”

“If I tell you, you cannot be offended.”

He moved away from the strong hands, running a critical eye down Agni’s smug expression. “That depends on what you find amusing.”

Agni appeared exasperated at Ezra’s response. “You just have the glimmer of a newborn.” He reached forward, smoothing a hand down Ezra’s cheekbone. “A barely perceivable shimmer near the cheekbones and jawline. Every fledgling has it.”

Ezra was immediately curious. “What other indications are there that a deity is a newborn? Besides the stunted mentality?”

Agni’s eyebrows shot up before a conceited smirk settled across his mouth. He leaned back on his hands and indolently moved his feet in the water. “You mean to say you haven’t noticed anything differently about yourself, Ezra?”

“Nearly everything is different.”

Agni stared at him lazily. “It correlates with your smooth, smooth face, little fledgling.”

Ezra blanched and the back of his neck grew warm under Agni’s maliciously amused scrutiny. “I was under the impression it was because it’s a new body and that it’d grow over time!” He pushed away from the ledge and moved to the center of the tub. Discreetly, or not-so-discreetly, under Agni’s watch, Ezra ran a hand down his manhood and down one of his legs.

Smooth skin. 

“It _will_ grow over time,” Agni agreed pleasantly. “Fifty to one hundred years to be exact. Fifty is the typical age fledglings grow body hair as well as the same age they go through sexual maturity. Though, for most, it’s longer. Most fledglings are not ready to engage in sexual activities until the age of one hundred.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval at Ezra’s immobility and silence. “You are being unnecessarily overdramatic.”

Never mind that Ezra was acting anything but overdramatically.

Ezra leveled the god with a cruel look. “I’ve already gone through puberty. I refuse to go through it again.”

Agni was unfazed. “Yes and no. The mortal realm accelerated your mental, emotional, and sexual maturity. It did not accelerate your godly body to be ahead of your peers. Your mortal body was just that—a mortal body.” 

Ezra shook his head.

“It is just hair, Ezra,” Agni reasoned. “Everything else is remarkably… _endowed_ and mature.” He peered lavishly through the water. “In fact, the majority of gods typically prefer to be hairless regardless of age. Chest, legs, even arms are waxed. Many of our wardrobe choices display a great deal of skin, as such, body hair is unpleasant and unsightly.” 

Ezra recalled the godly physician. Ashvin. The hairless legs had seemed abnormal to Ezra when he’d first seen them. Now it made sense.

Even _Agni_ was meticulously groomed.

Agni removed his legs from the water and stood from the ledge. Ezra treaded water momentarily as he watched the Fire God approach a set of shelves built into the walls. An idea sprung and lingered enough to make Ezra pleased with this outcome. “So, it truly is like puberty.” He incurred Agni’s indulgent attention. “Godly puberty. This means there is a possibility I may grow taller.”

Agni pulled a robe and a towel from the shelves. “It is not a common occurrence, but it’s not impossible. Though, most grow in muscle girth than height.”

Victory surged through Ezra at the possibility. He moved toward the stairs of the tub and confidently made his way out of the bath. “I will be taller than you.”

Agni handed him the towel, appearing indifferent and unmoved with Ezra’s confident conviction. “Unfortunately, your parentage did not do you any favors.”

Ezra began drying off, feeling far better than he had when he had first entered the bathing rooms. He didn’t know if it was from the massage, Agni’s irritating persistence on talking about the mortal realm, or from the possibility of regaining his lost height. “Calder is as tall as you are.”

As Agni stood opposite of him, his eyes rose only a few inches above Ezra’s head. “Your father was shorter than me.” He tossed the robe at a bemused Ezra, who had to grapple with it before it could drop to the floor. “By the way, Calder gives his regards. I explained the situation and reassured him you’d visit. We’ll work on veiling your aura and you’ll see him before you know it.”

Under Agni’s attentive stare, Ezra slipped on the red robe. He was impressed Agni had cared enough—was patient enough—to explain things to Calder. It saved Ezra from having to do so during his first visit; as well, it prevented further anguish on Calder’s behalf for thinking his son was completely gone.

But Calder was not where his uncertainties currently lay. “Does it bother you?” Ezra wondered quietly. He kept his eyes on the sash around his waist. “That I’m essentially a newborn?”

He did not understand this society’s view on newborns or the extent of their opinions on fledglings.

Agni adjusted the collar of Ezra’s dressing robe. “It would only bother me if it were to bother you. You may display a few signs of your newborn status, none of which deter me in the slightest, but you and I both know you surpass many ancient gods in terms of maturity.” He smoothed down the lapels of the robe. “Now, I have an ample number of gloves to replace the one you are currently wearing. It is soaking wet and most likely uncomfortable.”

Ezra glanced down, noticing his glove was raining water down near his sandals.

“This is the only time I’m going to ask you to remove it for me.”

Ezra frowned. “I’m surprised you didn’t ogle it when you had the chance.”

Agni leveled him with a blasé look. Ezra looked down and away from the disappointed stare as he unlatched his glove. His pulse raced and he hesitated. Didn’t he have enough flaws that set him apart from Agni? Agni may know about his hand, but that didn’t make it the same as _seeing_ it.

“Ezra.”

Peeling off the glove, Ezra stared at the hand he’d forced himself not to think about, not to look at. As a result, he hadn’t realized that it had progressed to the wrist bone. It was ghastly. It was horrifying. His pupils dilated as he stared unseeingly. But _gods…_ it was entirely all bone. He could see the different joints in his fingers and the different sections of his palm.

A hand engulfed it. A real hand.

Ezra watched as Agni pressed their palms together and aligned their fingers. He exhaled in distress, wanting to pull away, but he was stronger than that.

Agni seemed…captivated. The Fire God observed the difference in their hands before grasping Ezra’s bony wrist and turning his hand this way and that. To know he wasn’t repelled enough to not touch it somewhat reassured Ezra. He watched as Agni traced the bony appendages with a careful finger, the god’s eyes intent and focused.

Those fiery eyes then looked up and captured Ezra’s stare.

Whatever Agni saw in Ezra’s expression made him close the distance abruptly. Capturing Ezra’s face and cradling it firmly, Agni kissed him fiercely.

No words were needed.

*** * * ***

Ezra ran a lazy eye across the massive closet. “It is excessive, but somehow remarkably unsurprising to know these are all your clothes.”

Agni stopped leading Ezra through the closet— _room_ —and turned to watch Ezra sort through the unusual clothes presented before him. “Through here, we’ll enter another room.” He nodded toward the keyhole archway that led into another room. Ezra stopped when he noticed it was entirely all—

“Jewelry. For the both of us.”

“But why?”

“Jewelry is a sign of wealth, power, and prestige in Elisium.”

“I have no wealth here,” Ezra remarked.

“As I am courting you to be my consort, you will share my wealth.”

Ezra offered the god an unpleasant look. “I don’t care to display anything of the sort.”

Agni laughed once, a bitter, derisive laugh. “I have accumulated a great deal of wealth during my existence, Ezra. It is rightfully deserved and not merely an inheritance from a ‘pretentious noble family’.” He settled Ezra with a stern look before motioning back toward the room that all but glittered and gleamed silver and gold. “Through there, we will find _your_ new wardrobe.”

Ezra turned his cheek, far too uneasy with the prospect of so many clothes, jewelry, and gifts.

Instead, he lingered near Agni’s clothes, recognizing many styles as similar ones he’d seen the Fire God wear previously. Robes—either floor length or knee length—occupied most of the hangers. Many of their colors dark with subtle Igni-like patterns. There was also a wide selection of black trousers and black undershirts Agni typically wore under his robes.

And Ezra thought _he_ had selective taste.

“I’ve asked Chitragupta to meet us in your dressing room. I believe it prudent to educate you on the history of Elisium fashion. He will be the best candidate for the lesson, simply because I have no interest in the topic.” Agni slowly approached Ezra’s immobile form. “I selected your wardrobe based on what I believed you would like, not necessarily strict traditions in Elisium.”

Languidly, Ezra lifted his gaze. “As long as my boots are in there, nothing else matters. I will go naked and hairless for another fifty years.”

Agni inhaled deeply to compose his temper. “You are imprudent and ungrateful—”

“I believe Svaha left some of her clothes here.”

That earned Agni’s quick attention. Ezra pulled out the colorful skirt from its hanger and placed it partially in front of himself. The skirt was much longer than he was and it draped across the ground as he held it at waist-level. He plucked at the multicolored fabric in a way that displayed the articulate patterns on the skirt.

Agni closed his eyes briefly as if gathering his patience, before he opened them and leveled Ezra with a calm and placating look. “That is not Svaha’s clothing. That is mine. It is a lungi. Many gods wore them.”

“It’s distasteful. Why do you still have this?” Ezra studied the offensive skirt before looking up at Agni. “Please tell me you didn’t actually wear this in public. No wonder why people fear you. If this—or a version of this—is in my closet, I’m grounding myself back in the mortal realm.”

Agni reached for it but Ezra pulled it back. “If you do not behave yourself,” the Fire God started lowly in warning, “I will make sure to wear this in public the next time we are together.”

Ezra’s mirth grew boundlessly at Agni’s attempt at intimidation. “Can I take your word on that?” he asked cockily. “The only one you’ll be punishing is yourself. I will gladly look forward to seeing you wear this in public.”

Agni’s ire suddenly dampened and his eyes brightened considerably. He took an advancing step forward, not in the least bit interested in the lungi and every bit interested in reaching for Ezra. “Will you misbehave for me?”

Agni’s purring croon went straight down Ezra’s stomach and down to cock. He allowed himself to be shoved against the wall and he arched against Agni as he closed the distance. The god’s hand curled around his throat, applying enough pressure to constrict his airflow. Agni then leaned against Ezra, pressing him firmly against the wall with his weight.

And then Agni suddenly moved away, occupying himself with rehanging the lungi.

Ezra was left flabbergasted and miserably aroused. He couldn’t handle this anymore. As much as he tried to refute Indra’s ridiculous claim, the god had been right.

“Are you and I brothers?”

His question was enough to incur Agni’s surprise. The god’s eyes were wide with amusement and he cocked his head to the side. “Would it matter to you if we were?”

“Oh…what an awkward time to interrupt,” came Chitragupta’s voice from the doorway of the closet. “I could have just pretended I wasn’t here, to see how the conversation progressed, but I’ve been scolded once or twice before for doing that very same thing.”

Ezra pulled his skeletal hand into his sleeve when Chit entered. He was relieved the Syphon had interrupted, for he was torn between wanting to know the truth regarding Agni’s physical distance and wanting to avoid it entirely. If Indra had been right—if they really were brothers—that would certainly explain his change of appearance as well as Agni’s intentional distance.

“Chit,” Ezra greeted evenly, straightening from his position and fixing his robe.

“I’m surprised you’ve taken so long bathing and choosing an outfit…considering Kai has been waiting patiently for you in the next room.” 

“Kai?” Ezra asked dumbly. “Kai is here?” He pushed off from the wall, his heart in his throat. Kai wasn’t supposed to be here. He should have been in Naraka. Chitragupta proclaimed Kai would have likely been reborn into a Syphon or among all the other mortal souls. “Show me.”

Chit glanced at Agni, but Ezra was already exiting the closet. He had no idea where he was going, just that he was beyond words, thoughts, emotions; he was—

Chitragupta appeared beside him, leading him down the corridors and toward a door that was just down the hall. Once the door was flung open, Ezra felt as if he were walking in a daze.

There was Kai.

_Kai Edlen._

His breath hitched as he absorbed the sight of his long-lost comrade. Only, Kai was laying as stiff as a board and he looked like a corpse.

_“Agni!”_

*** * * ***

Warriors separated for the trio as they made their way down the long trek to Indra’s throne. The King of Gods stood before they made it to the end. He’d known they were coming, after all. With the realms still in lockdown, they’d requested his assistance to let them into Elisium. And yet—despite knowing who they brought with them—he still could not believe the sight before him.

It had been mere speculation on the Reaper’s part—as well as the mortals—that she was back. But there’d been no announcement, no _sign_ of her rebirth in Elisium. What was Brahma playing at? First the Reaper, now _her_. Was it the Keepers? Were they acting independently from the God of Creation? Was it time to wake up and invoke Brahma’s presence?

Kartikeya and Vayu came to a gradual halt, spurring the goddess to halt with them. 

“Someone call for Queen Shachi,” Indra demanded.

He walked toward the scantily-clad goddess, staring at the bowed head of messy dark curls. As he closed the distance, she looked up, ensnaring him with bright hazel eyes.

Indra smiled faintly as he removed his outer robe and handed it to her.

“Hello, Prithvi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all ♥


	14. Light from Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a big THANKS to Fae/CaramelRaven for looking over the chapter. Any mistakes are my own!

  1. **Light from Below** ****



“You _invited_ me into the dressing room.”

“Being invited somewhere does not give you the liberty to spew information and revelations like vomit.” A pause. “Have you no tact?”

“Will you just tell me what is going on?” It took a great deal of effort, but Ezra managed to look away from Kai and focus on Chitragupta and Agni. Just past them, Skanda lingered in the doorway, presumably having decided to investigate after hearing the commotion. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here sooner?” Ezra demanded of Agni. “Is he—”

“Undead,” Chit supplied unhelpfully.

Agni moved forward and stopped next to Ezra. “I put him in a sleeping state.” He motioned to the black veins extending past the collar of Kai’s royal guard uniform. “It stops the progression of the Syphon transformation. Yamuna and I believe once his transformation is complete, he will be reborn in the realm with the other Syphons and daemons.”

Ezra pressed his lips together. “How did he get _here_? I had assumed he’d…”

He cut himself off once the shock of the situation wore off and logic returned.

Agni stood patiently at his side, waiting for Ezra to connect the pieces—pieces that were presented before him. From the careful way Kai was positioned on the bed to the slightly lived-in atmosphere of the bedroom. There was also a charcoal rune drawn on the floor prepared and ready to activate.

It took Ezra only a brief glance to identify the rune as being the same one he’d drawn to summon Chitragupta. Twice.

“You retrieved him from Naraka after his death,” he realized with a hint of disbelief. After all, this was _Agni_. Agni did not go out of his way for others. “You couldn’t summon him from the locked realm without the Reaper, so instead of subjecting him to the pain and suffering upon the completion of his transformation, you brought him here and put him to sleep until I arrived.”

It was one of the few times Agni had managed to dumbfound Ezra by demonstrating selflessness. Granted, Kai was in this position _because_ of Agni, but Agni could have left him in Naraka. He could have let Kai suffer in the realm of Syphons and daemons. It was what Ezra had dreaded as Kai’s reality.

Instead—

Agni had stayed with Kai for the amount of time Ezra was separated from them.

He caught Agni’s eyes and carefully conveyed his gratitude.

Agni’s lashes lowered with acknowledgement and his mouth softened near the corners. 

“ _Oof_ ,” Chit exhaled and looked at Skanda with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Good thing—”

“Silence,” Skanda ordered monotonously, intentionally looking anywhere but at Agni and Ezra. He crossed his arms over his chest and focused exclusively on Kai. “I had assumed from Chitragupta’s nonstop chatter that you had intended to turn him into a god. Did the Keepers not cooperate with you, father? Did you speak with Brahma?”

“Keepers?” Ezra asked, feeling entirely ignorant and out of place.

He knew Agni had intended to turn Kai into another Chitragupta. He just hadn’t known how Agni had proposed to accomplish that feat, and clearly, judging from Kai’s current condition, it appeared as if that intention had failed. There was no question that Kai would become a Syphon, and Ezra felt a small pang of regret that Kai would be ostracized in Elisium and unable to roam freely.

Agni placed a hand at the small of Ezra’s back, the touch light and fleeting.

“You and I will be visiting Yamuna after we get you acclimated here. There are imperative things we need to discuss.” Behind the Fire God, Chitragupta perked up with intrigue. “One of the things you’ll see in her territory—assuming she allows you entrance—is the process of soul and Essence creation. The Keepers are in charge of the godly Essences and are extensions of Brahma.”

Ezra nodded.

“And it just so happened that the Keepers had Chitragupta’s Essence perfectly preserved,” Agni said. “Which is an unusual occurrence considering Chitragupta was a minor god. They typically do not bother tampering with the Essences of minor gods.”

Agni looked pointedly at Chitragupta, who looked away shamefully. Just behind Chit, Skanda’s expression hardened and turned blank. Evidently, there was more Ezra was missing. He’d been so focused on the mortal realm these past few months that everything about the god realm—including Chitragupta’s past—was put aside.

Ezra was determined to absorb as much as he could as quickly as he could.

He did not appreciate being several steps behind everyone else.

“The Keepers agreed they would grant Kai Edlen Chitragupta’s old Essence,” Agni concluded.

“Is it typically easy to grant a deceased mortal deity status?” Ezra asked. “Can Syphons reclaim their Essence from the Keepers and become—”

“No.” Agni looked down at Ezra’s imploring look, most likely anticipating where his mind was going and putting his optimism to an abrupt halt. “Syphons are incapable of remerging with their Essence. The only one who is capable of granting deity status to a mortal—to any entity—is Brahma. I sought his favor through the Keepers. I do not appeal to my father often, and he does not always grant my requests.”

Agni’s attention briefly fell on Skanda.

Ezra immediately recalled the memory where Agni had pleaded to his father over his son’s mangled body. It reminded him of all the things he still wanted to ask Agni—specifically about the events leading to his son’s death, what Agni had seen on the volcano, and Svaha’s treatment of him after the devastating events.

“Unfortunately,” Agni continued, “as you can see, turning Edlen into a god proved futile. Chitragupta’s Essence was given to Indra upon the king’s request.”

Chitragupta looked up at that, his expression slack with surprise and disbelief.

“What would Indra want with Chitragupta’s Essence?” Ezra inquired with a quirked brow toward the small-statured Syphon. “Had he predicted your intentions with the Essence?” he asked Agni. “Sought to disrupt your plans and—”

“He gave it to you.” Agni’s monotone was eerily similar to the one Skanda had used earlier when silencing Chitragupta.

Ezra was about to argue that he’d never received anything of the sort, but stopped short when he recalled the vial of glowing red Essence Indra had given him. Agni had been the one to deliver it to him with a warning: _‘Just remember, the sweeter the poison, the more effective’._ Across the room, Chitragupta appeared to have come to the same conclusion.

“We consumed it.”

Skanda curled a lip. “You consumed an Essence _Indra_ gave you?”

“We were hungry and weak,” Ezra defended. “We didn’t exactly have the opportunity to partake in the god feast the night they tried to ground themselves, Skanda.” At Ezra’s scathing sarcasm, and the remembrance of that night, Skanda grinned.

“Indra is your father, is he not?” Ezra asked Chitragupta, who then nodded, confirming Ezra’s earlier suspicions. “Why would he give away your old Essence to be consumed? Does he harbor that much hostility for you?”

“Revise your assumption,” Agni chastised.

Ezra faltered at the reprimand and looked up at Agni. “The other alternative is so unlike Indra—”

“Unlike the King of Gods?” Agni inquired. “Or unlike a father who loves his son?”

Frustrated with the implication of Indra not fitting a preconceived mold, Ezra tightened his robe and glanced at Chit. The Syphon remained unusually quiet. “He didn’t want his son to be replaced in any capacity,” he grasped. “But doesn’t Indra realize the Essence was not what made Chitragupta _his son,_ but rather his soul?” Ezra nodded to Chit with his chin. “Chit’s soul— _Chit—_ is right here.”

It was an undead soul, but a soul nonetheless.

The soul was the part of an individual which harbored the majority of their memories, their feelings, and their personality. Moreover, while the Essence held impressions left behind from the soul, it was merely what made a god a _god._ The immortality, the eternal youthfulness, and the powers.

“Indra is not an easy god to understand. His reasons are his own. Only Chitragupta would be able to answer that.”

When Chit made no effort to fill the silence, Agni continued. “Most gods believe Syphons to be untrue versions of their loved ones. Corrupt, tainted, and evil—no longer possessing that grace that gods hold dear. Instead, Syphons possess an ability and a craving that the gods cannot comprehend, nor accept.”

At Agni’s explanation, Skanda shook his head.

“But they’re wrong,” Ezra declared.

“Are they?” Agni proposed in challenge. “Chitragupta and Skanda—as well as Kai Edlen—will be your firm allies, but I can assure you, not all Syphons and daemons will be so obedient. Some are malevolent beings who will usurp your regime and stain your reputation if you grow slack.”

“Most of them will follow their master.” Skanda quickly reasoned. “The Reaper—” he cut himself off with a controlled and frustrated exhale. “You—Ezra—as the Reaper, will need to take control.”

“That wasn’t easy to spit out,” Chitragupta murmured quietly.

Agni watched his son with barely veiled delight.

Ezra knew that look well. It was the expression Agni wore when he knew he was right and was merely entertaining the poor soul with further discussion.

“The Syphons wreaked havoc during Yama’s regime and sparked terror among defenseless deities who were not participants in the war. They were merely innocent bystanders,” Agni said. “It will not be easy swaying the deities’ perceptions when the Syphons were killing haphazardly. It will take a great deal to tighten their manacles. They were Yama’s army.”

Skanda made a move to argue.

“And Naraka was Yama’s Naraka,” Ezra interceded. “And the daemons were Yama’s daemons. The throne is and was Yama’s. Even the Cold’s loyalty wavered when confronted with a sliver of Yama’s presence when it was inside _Ember_.” He smirked macabrely. “Taming everything should be easy enough.”

“To be fair, Yama was _created_ to be the Reaper. Everything came easily for him.” Skanda did not see Agni’s dangerous look. “You are…”

Ezra’s smirk grew wider and far more cynical. “An imitation? A pieced-together Reaper?”

Skanda frowned. “I did not mean it derisively, but in a sense, yes. It may be more of a challenge for you than it was for Yama.”

Agni stared unblinkingly at Skanda while Ezra turned his shoulder on the pair.

“It is true,” Ezra acknowledged emotionlessly. “And all the more reason to start sooner in Naraka rather than later.” He moved closer to Kai’s side and stared down at the pale, noble features. “I’d like to wake Kai,” he stated numbly. “From what I understand, all we need to do is summon him after he’s reborn.” 

It sounded easy enough.

“I waited with him until the very end, so he will not be with us long.” Agni moved and crouched beside Kai. Red-orange eyes looked up at Ezra and touched the crown of Kai’s head. “You say the word and I will release him from his sleep.”

Ezra glanced down at his dressing robe and sandals and the bony fingers peeking past the cuff of his sleeve. He curled his right hand further into the sleeve and sat at the edge of Kai’s bed. The notion of seeing and interacting with Kai made him anxious. It seemed surreal. Especially surreal after gathering Kai’s body from the palace corridors and placing it beside the mass of other palace casualties.

And again when he watched the casket burn. When he watched Talia sob into her hands. When he watched Seaton Edlen become a mere shadow of his former self as he clutched onto a woman Ezra had only assumed to be his wife and Kai’s mother.

Ezra nodded.

Agni watched him silently before his fingers ghosted across Kai’s brow.

The shuddering and rattling breath filled the room instantly and Ezra quickly grabbed Kai’s trembling hand with his own.

“I need more, please,” Kai rasped.

Ezra frowned and looked questioningly at Agni, who stood from his position. “I’d been giving him tonics to ease the pain,” Agni explained. Kai, having recognized Agni’s voice, turned expectantly towards the Fire God. “It will not be much longer,” Agni said to the trembling young man. “Ezra is with us now. He will be here to pull you from Naraka.”

Upon Agni’s reassurance, Kai stilled.

“Why is he feeling so much pain?” Ezra asked quietly. “He’s a deceased mortal soul—”

“Even the soul can experience pain,” Skanda replied. “You will become very familiar with that premise when you explore the levels of purgatory, especially the levels that incarcerate the souls who have sinned in their lifetime.” The Syphon appeared grim. “Those are levels of Naraka I prefer not to dwell in. Ever.”

At the disquieting forewarning, Ezra refocused decisively on Kai, watching as the young man’s eyes opened slowly. The blue eyes were dull and nearly colorless. With sunken realization, Ezra knew this would be the last trace of color he’d ever see in Kai’s features. The life—the color—would bleed from Kai and render him a colorless and monochrome form.

“I see the afterlife has gifted you with both eyes,” Ezra managed to say past his guilt.

Kai stared at him feverishly, his expression bemused and lost at the unfamiliar-looking face staring down at him. “Egan?”

Upon the old, yet intimately familiar surname, Ezra offered a small smile. “Edlen.”

Cracks lined Kai’s strong jawline, and his black pupils nearly overtook his eyes. “I am so hungry.”

Ezra looked up and caught Agni’s eye.

That was something they’d need to discuss. How were Syphons supposed to eat if their only source of food lay with destroying and killing deities? The entire realm of famished Syphons was _Ezra’s_ responsibility. If the barrier were to fall without proper preparation, Ezra could not control hundreds of ravenous Syphons at once.

He had only destroyed one Syphon and that had been his mother in an act of sheer desperation and panic as she’d sought to consume Agni. Tvastr and Indra may have weapons to injure Syphons, but that was only a temporary solution.

Ezra curled his hand more firmly around Edlen’s, however, he found his fingers phasing through the other man’s hand. He stared unseeingly at the nearly translucent hand before looking back up at Kai as to not startle him.

“We’ll find you something to eat as quickly as we can.”

That seemed to reassure Kai. His body relaxed and he closed his eyes once more.

The longer Ezra stared at him, the faster Kai’s body faded. “Why is he being reborn elsewhere?” he demanded frustratedly. Ezra looked up at Agni, who loomed next to him. “Why can’t he just go through the transformation where he is and be done with it?”

“A mortal soul is not capable of maintaining physical shape in Elisium for very long, so it is going where it recognizes the root of its soul.” Upon Ezra’s blank stare, Agni elaborated. “When Edlen died his mortal death, there was a part of him—albeit a small part—that was reborn in the Syphon realm. It was inevitable, given the Syphon transformation had started in the mortal realm.”

“He’s…split,” Ezra said faintly, thinking of Yama.

“Not for much longer. His mortal body contained the two warring parts of his soul, but once that vessel was destroyed, the two parts went to their respective realms. The rest of his mortal soul is transforming here—fading here—and simply merging where it recognizes it can continue thriving. The soul is always about perseverance.”

Kai’s breathing slowed. “Dying twice,” he said with irony. “Don’t say I never did anything for you, Egan.”

“You’re not…you’re not dying, Edlen,” Ezra corrected quietly in an attempt to settle Kai’s anxiety. “Your soul is merely transforming.” Kai remained comatose to the reassurance, and Ezra placed a hand next to the blond’s rapidly fading shoulder. “I’ll be with you this time,” he promised.

It both felt and sounded like an empty promise.

They waited for what seemed like minutes, the silence tense and uneasy.

It didn’t take long for Kai to fade entirely, his body diminishing and his last exhale suspending in the air long after his departure.

Incredulity hardly had the chance to settle before the panic took its place. What if Kai had just faded because he was in Elisium for too long? What if he wasn’t in the Syphon realm but rather lost elsewhere in Naraka, still suffering? Prone and in agony? What if his soul would always be split in half? Like Yama’s Essence?

A dagger was tossed onto the bed next to him, rousing him from his sinking depression.

“Blood, Reaper,” Chitragupta instructed decisively. “I think you’ll agree that time is of the essence. The sooner we act, the sooner he can leave that purgatory. I’ve waited long enough for the Edlen fledgling to join our group.”

Channeling his uncertainties into a more useful task, Ezra stood up and quickly ran the blade across his forearm. He walked carefully across the rune, sure to leave the charcoal lines undisturbed, before squeezing out a few drops of blood into the bowl. He observed Chitragupta as the Syphon took position at the perimeter of the rune. Seeing the Syphon’s expression lined with focused determination reminded Ezra of Chit’s scholarly and wickedly smart mind.

Despite the grim situation, Ezra’s gaze grew fond.

They had much to discuss when this was over—particularly about Chitragupta’s past and his family. He could not shake the shame Chitragupta had conveyed when Agni mentioned his Essence being on reserve with the Keepers.

Wiping his expression clear of any warmth, Ezra nodded toward the bowl. “Will you take the lead? I’ve forgotten the incantation to activate it.”

Chit looked up at him—surprised—before his eyes fell to Ezra’s skeletal hand holding the dagger aloft. His lips thinned with displeasure and he nodded carefully. “I will until it’s your time to formally summon him.”

Agni and Skanda stood back, allowing Ezra and Chit to proceed without disruption. The only sign of their presence came from the single flame that ignited inside the bowl with Ezra’s blood. Quickly, Ezra stepped out of the rune, feeling the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. A sense of unease made his teeth clench and it only grew stronger when Chitragupta began the incantation.

The single flame inside the bowl extinguished, and a rush of cold swelled throughout the room. Ezra scrutinized the rune carefully, feeling the heavy and aware presence as it roused and focused exclusively on him. Across the rune, Chitragupta nodded for him to go ahead, his expression tentative and clearly as sensitive to the presence as Ezra.

With a sense of dread and reluctant acceptance—for Ezra had a sinking suspicion of how this would conclude—he addressed the presence in the room. “I, Ezra, God of Death and Justice, summon the Syphon known as Kai Edlen.”

The silence in the room was heavy and suspenseful.

Nothing happened for quite some time.

Tangible dark amusement suddenly filled the room, and the bowl overfilled with blood.

The thick liquid bubbled over the brim of the bowl, creeping its way across the floor and following the meticulous lines of the rune. Excruciating pain suddenly shot through Ezra’s right hand. He bit his tongue to suppress the cry of pain, dropping the dagger to the floor in order to encircle his wrist to stem the pain. 

Agni was suddenly standing in front of Ezra, using his foot to erase the charcoal lines of the rune. As soon as the lines were broken, the presence retreated from the room, and the blood across the floors disappeared as if it was never there to begin with. 

Agni turned to look at Ezra, his eyes dropping to the protective way he cradled his hand.

“Nothing can ever go smoothly, can it, child?” The Fire God reached forward and collected a bit of blood from the corner of Ezra’s mouth. “It appears as if Naraka is impatient for your arrival.”

Ezra exhaled carefully before turning his heel and exiting the bedroom.

_If you want Kai Edlen, Reaper, you’re going to have to collect him yourself._

So be it.

*** * * ***

Agni and Skanda shared a private look.

Ezra stood a distance behind them, watching their nonverbal communication with a skeptical eye. “Is something the matter?”

They both turned at his sudden and silent arrival.

Agni ran an appraising eye down Ezra’s form before he motioned him forward. “We are discussing the likelihood of Indra placing wards around Naraka. Most of them are undetectable. If we cross over them, he will be alerted to our presence.”

Ezra sidled next to Agni and inserted himself between the father-son duo.

They currently faced a wall of weapons that looked identical to the one Ezra had seen in Agni’s memories. “Indra knowing our comings and goings means little to me.” He had no qualms about _Indra_ discovering what they were doing, especially when they were trying to retrieve Kai. “Naraka is my territory no matter how long Indra has been meddling in it during my absence. Let him know we’re there.”

Agni glanced smugly at Skanda who nodded in turn.

“As you wish, _charu_.” His attention refocused on Ezra, paying special attention to the fur-lined coat Ezra had selected from the overwhelming amount of clothes in his closet. The knee-length coat was a bit loose in the shoulders as well as near the cuffs of his sleeves, but only Agni would be attuned to such an observation. “I see you located your boots.”

Ezra glanced down at the combat boots laced tightly over the fitted trousers. The very same boots that gave him the extra height to reach Agni’s chin. “Chitragupta located them for me. He rescued them from the heat of the desert. They’re still burning.”

Agni stared at the boots in silence, looking at them as Ezra had looked at the sandals earlier.

“I had no idea where they’d gone off to,” Agni murmured. “As always, we are very fortunate for Chitragupta’s interference.” He turned back to the wall of weapons, intentionally avoiding Ezra’s squinted, knowing look. “Before we depart, Skanda has requested a new weapon.”

“I don’t feel nearly as comfortable wielding it as I once did.” Skanda held up Brahma’s sword, and the bronze blade gleamed attractively. “It must detect that I am no longer a superior entity.”

Ezra promptly removed the spear from his back holster and presented it to the Syphon. “Your reunion with your weapon is long overdue. I appreciate you lending it to me.” 

Skanda shook his head but stopped when Ezra forced it firmly against his chest. “You—”

“It belongs with its rightful owner.” Ezra released the spear, and Skanda quickly moved to grab it before it dropped to the ground. “I look forward to seeing you wield it. It is a handsome and well-crafted weapon.” He considered the golden spear, having remembered something that he’d noticed distractedly during battle. “Some of the engravings glowed during battle. Is that a unique characteristic of the weapon?” 

Skanda, having succeeded with balancing both weapons, paused at that. His grey eyes unfocused from Ezra’s face and looked over his shoulder at Agni. “Not ordinarily, no. The wolf or the bear?”

Ezra watched his expression closely. “Wolf.”

Skanda wasn’t normally one to convey emotion, having taken after his father in that regard. He was especially expressionless as he handed Brahma’s sword to Agni. “The weapon was pleased with your performance, specifically the leftover imprints of Rudra.” A small smile crossed his lips. “Well done, Reaper. He is hard to please.”

“Which brings us to arming you with a new weapon.” Agni moved forward and hung the sword back in its position.

“Anything will do for now.” Ezra considered Brahma’s sword as it beamed from its position among the others. “I’d like to hurry and get Kai.”

Agni offered him a placating stare before turning his shoulder and prowling the length of the wall. “It will not take long. You need a proper weapon before we go. Merely pick the weapon that calls to you. I have additional weapons in another room if you do not see anything that is to your liking.” The Fire God pivoted and his eyes—gleaming predatorily and obsessively—refocused on Ezra. “Keep in mind, while you are an excellent swordsman, the staff or spear seem to fit your…springiness.” 

Ezra’s lashes lowered with insult and he pointed to the largest longsword. “That will do.”

Agni stared at him, unimpressed.

Impatient, Ezra refocused on the wall of weapons. Many of them looked ancient, but well preserved. Every sort of traditional weapon imaginable was mounted and displayed with utmost respect and care. They were all forged with various materials and levels of craftsmanship. Some were bronze. Most of them were steel, while a few were a darker metal alloy. He moved alongside the wall, his eyes critical—albeit impatient—before he zeroed in on a beautiful blue-black bow and a quiver designed with raised, golden engravings.

He reached for it, his fingers reverently ghosting across the handsomely crafted bow.

“If you were an archer, I would strongly approve of your interest.” Agni’s voice was tight with fond amusement. He watched Ezra with interest. “It is a very infamous bow. Rudra was a master archer. No one could possibly match him.”

“You seem to have many of Rudra’s weapons.” Ezra resumed his scrutiny of the wall. “Were you close with your uncle?”

“Very much so.”

Ezra paused when he detected the high respect and admiration. It was rare for Agni to convey any sort of emotion when talking about another, least of all high approbation. A sting of jealousy lingered and swelled. Ezra tried to stifle it by staring stubbornly at the wall and telling himself he was being a fool for feeling this way about an infamously powerful and deceased member of Agni’s family.

Yet Agni hardly ever used that tone—even when he spoke of Brahma.

No longer wanting to play this game, and just wanting to get Kai back as quickly as possible, Ezra bypassed the twin swords that called to him and settled on a relatively unassuming and basic sword situated on the lower shelf. It had the least amount of glam and design, but he discerned the faultless craftsmanship.

Agni would not display a less than acceptable sword.

As he tested its weight, he felt the unmistakable presence of a Syphon breathing down his neck. “Chit,” Ezra greeted casually as he rolled the hilt around in his palm.

“Are we ready?”

Ezra nodded and sheathed the sword in his holster. “Just how many areas in Naraka are locked? Where will we look first?” As he looked to the others, he realized Agni was watching him knowingly, his mouth slanted in a semblance of an arrogant smirk. “What?” Ezra asked defensively. “Did I choose another one of Rudra’s weapons?”

“We will revisit this when you are not sulking.” While Agni moved across the room toward Skanda, his eyes remained focused on Ezra. “Silly, child,” the god murmured quietly—fondly—as if it were just the two of them.

Instead of rising to the bait, Ezra coldly returned Agni’s gaze.

“We’re going to the third level of Naraka. We call it _Himarta_. It is the level that confines the Syphons and daemons.” Skanda held out the spear and accepted the flame dancing at the tips of Agni’s fingers. As the fire transferred onto the spear, the weapon burned brightly, not dimming until the flames absorbed into the shaft. “If Kai is not there, we will look elsewhere.”

“Indra has sealed many levels and areas, but the entire realm of Naraka is not under complete lockdown.” Agni adjusted his own coat and tightened the holster around his chest. A sword peeked over his shoulder, one that Ezra had yet to see. “We’ll reperform the summoning near Himarta’s wards. Should we not find Edlen there, nor in the other unlocked levels, we will have to… _convince_ Indra to drop specific wards we see fit.”

Ezra and Agni shared a look; this time, both gods were on the same page and delighted over the implications of convincing Indra.

“There may be a possibility Naraka is keeping Kai someplace long enough to play games with you,” Skanda informed. “If that is the case, it may take quite some time to locate him.”

Ezra had considered that a possibility. He just hoped Kai wasn’t experiencing any unnecessary suffering because of Naraka’s insistence on playing with Ezra like a petulant and unhappy child.

When he considered it that way, Ezra couldn’t help but compare Naraka to Agni.

Chit placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “Traveling through shadows is a bit more difficult in the god realm, simply because deities cannot go intangible here. The intangibility usually makes things easier when linking with the shadows,” he explained. “Being as Skanda _is_ a fledgling Syphon who has not experienced his powers outside of Naraka and the mortal realm, even he hasn’t achieved this level of travel.”

Skanda appeared unamused with the title.

Fingers suddenly grabbed Ezra’s gloved hand and dragged him across the room toward Skanda. “Fortunately for the both of you, I can bring you along with me.”

Skanda reluctantly allowed Chit to grab hold of his hand. With the overexuberance of a child, Chitragupta pulled his two captives towards the large shadow cast by the folded room partition. Chit eagerly jumped into the shadow as if it were a puddle, pulling Skanda and Ezra sharply by their hands to cast them partially in darkness as well.

It all happened so suddenly.

Ezra had been musing over Agni’s ability to travel using the fire-infused spear when his body was abruptly plunged in freezing cold. The shadow came alive as it ascended their legs, enfolding them entirely with inky black shadow.

“Take good care of them, Chitragupta,” came Agni’s chilling warning before Ezra succumbed to the eager black.

Earlier, when the four were discussing their venture to Naraka, Ezra had sensed Agni’s displeasure over the prospect of being separated, even if it was only for mere minutes. But Agni could not travel through shadows, and employing the main portal to get to Naraka proved to carry potential setbacks. Setbacks undoubtedly placed by Indra, who no doubt monitored Naraka as if he were the ruling sovereign of the underworld. 

But facing Indra’s traps and his manipulations to the portal may have been worth it, for Naraka’s presence suddenly expanded around them, its awareness scarily intelligent and wicked.

Ezra was oddly resigned as he felt himself being torn forcibly from Chitragupta’s side.

Naraka wanted him isolated and secluded.

Ezra would just have to endure this homecoming surprise.

Breaking through ice wasn’t as painful as one would imagine. The sheet of ice was thin enough—brittle enough—that when Ezra plummeted through it, it merely cracked like shattered glass. What he did not expect, however, was plunging into the depths of freezing water. A sense of terror welled up within Ezra at the prospect of being submerged in so much water—water he could not see, water he was not familiar with.

It was entirely pitch black and Ezra flailed his arms, panicking.

Which way was up, which way was down?

Could a deity drown to death?

Judging from the burning of his lungs, he imagined there was a possibility. What a sad, pitiful way to go. What a humiliation if they found the Reaper washed ashore, determining drowning as the cause of death.

He slowed his racing pulse and turned motionless.

His body gradually straightened itself out and began its natural descent further into the water. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, he saw the barely-there shimmer above and recognized it as a faint light shedding across the seamless ice. As well, he belatedly detected the several darker shapes surrounding him. Disquiet prickled its way down Ezra’s spine when he realized he was not alone.

A pair of protruding white eyes stared at him.

Followed by a dozen of more eyes as the dark shapes progressively inched closer.

Ezra kicked his legs, swimming away from the dark forms that resembled bloating and horrific fish. But it wasn’t just fish. There were larger forms among the mass—forms that were humanoid in shape. He swam quicker to the surface, whimpering when he felt something touch his leg. Of all the things Naraka could have thrown him into, a dark body of water with a plethora of murky creatures was a literal nightmare for Ezra.

He reached the surface, pressing his palms against the ice.

Panic set in as he tested its thickness.

A bright flash of fire suddenly streaked across the surface of the ice, passing over Ezra’s submerged form. Mournfully, he watched it go, realizing Agni was already sending out his fire to search for him.

Harnessing the Cold, Ezra slammed his hands against the ice, willing it to _crack._ While his new body seemed to have a heightened ability of holding its breath under water, he was reaching his limit and the dark forms were closing in on him. To further his alarm, the Cold did not obey his orders but rather joined forces with Naraka, both entities highly amused at his predicament.

Ezra curled his hand into a fist and punched the ice, moving downstream and desperately testing for areas of resistance.

He urgently glanced back, fearing the fish that persistently followed. Being closer to the surface allowed him to properly observe their sharp overbites and the scales that unraveled from their bodies like loose, peeling flesh.

 _They’re just harmless fish_ , Ezra reasoned. _What would Agni think of your needless fear?_

Needless, maybe, until a pair of sharp, crooked teeth embedded into his arm, biting through the limb and eliciting a pain so sharp, Ezra’s mind froze momentarily in shock. Another jaw chumped down around his calf and Ezra kicked at it, trying to shake off the beast. Around him, blood stained the water, appearing morbidly beautiful as it tendrilled and expanded like spilt ink.

Ezra’s panic escalated as the ice refused to break.

He was cornered against the barrier and could do nothing to stop the beasts from closing in. His right arm no longer had feeling and he resorted to using his remaining hand to feebly pat the ice and plead with the Cold to help him. As he moved to unsheathe his weapon, hoping it could somehow break the ice reinforced by Naraka, two sets of jaws latched on to his elbow.

Water surged into his nose and mouth as he screamed.

Teeth punctured his limbs, yanking him down and away from the ice. As if growing eager at his vulnerability, the humanoid silhouettes glided closer, bringing with them a hair-raising melody. Pulled away from the light of the surface and plummeting into the depths of darkness, Ezra got one last close-up look at one of the figures as it loomed before him.

It was a face of a decomposing woman.

She reached for him and the last thought Ezra had was the hope that the others would somehow retrieve Kai safely.

And then everything went black.

*** * * ***

When he came to, he was lying face down in snow.

He chose to lie there, undisturbed as he recovered his senses. Ghostly impressions of teeth and jaws prickled alongside his arms and legs, but when he twitched them, there was no weight attached to them. The beasts were detached.

The Cold thrummed protectively around him, warding off most of the chill.

Naraka, however, remained a watchful and cynical observer.

Pressing his face more firmly into the snow, Ezra tested his limbs. They shakily supported him as he rose on to his hands and knees. As he peered down to assess the damage, he stared in disbelief at his coat. There were no holes. No bloody gashes. Falling back onto his haunches, he frantically searched his body, patting, pinching, and flexing, noticing he was not wet nor was he injured.

He sat on the heels of his boots, exhaling in disbelief.

It had been so real.

 _Unbelievable_. Naraka had even given the illusion of Agni’s fire searching for him, but perhaps that had been true to an extent. Perhaps he _had_ gone through the lake, but Naraka had healed him of his wounds and mended his clothing. The latter scenario seemed unlikely, but it did add another level of fuckery to the mind games.

He ran an assessing eye around his surroundings, feeling as if the danger had not yet passed.

While the sky was entirely black, there was a source of white light coming from the snowy ground _._ The snow was illuminated ethereally, highlighting the tall, naked trees that warped uncannily into the air with crooked and interlocking branches. It was relatively silent, though an occasional owl made its presence known with a majestic and eerie hoot, as did other animals who produced high-pitched screeches throughout the woods.

Turning to look over his shoulder, he noticed there was no sign of water.

No lake or pond of any sort.

And then he became aware of the panting that matched the rhythm of his breathing.

With a morbid sense of intrigue, he turned his head, peering into the trees and just barely making out the canine eyes watching him from the shadows. He could only assume the animal was a physical representation of Naraka. Why else would the wolf appear when Naraka was playing games with him?

The implication did not sit well with him.

He had to tame Naraka. Or at least get it to trust him.

Having the underworld take on the form of a wolf signified it would be a challenging contender. From what little he knew, wolves were proud predators, not easily swayed. They were independent, intelligent, as well as territorial. When—if—he returned to Agni’s home, he would research what a black wolf symbolized, perhaps then he’d have a better understanding of Naraka. 

“As impressive as your illusions are, we’re supposed to be allies.”

The wolf’s head dipped low, yet the eyes remained fixated on Ezra, watching him as if he were prey. After several moments of silence and immobility, a large black paw crossed over onto the glowing snow and then another.

Ezra stiffened but remained crouched down as the wolf emerged from the dark.

Another aspect that unnerved him about Naraka’s form was the frequency in which the wolf had made an appearance before this. It had been there when he’d conjured an animal to combat against Ember. It had been in Cyra’s dreams. It was a charm on his bracelet. It had been on Rudra’s spear. It had been _Rudra’s_ spirit animal. Perhaps it was best Ezra put aside his pettiness and learn more about Rudra from Agni.

There was a connection here, one Ezra would piece together.

Once the wolf fully emerged from the shadow, it slunk toward Ezra, revealing a large and regal form. The pelt was deep black and full, its ears perked and forward, its icy-blue stare direct and wide. The large paws hit the snow silently and began to circle Ezra.

Ezra kept his attention focused forward, never having been as still nor as rigid. Even his breathing was careful and even as he felt the powerful gaze of the entity dissect him. Naraka had always secreted sheer supremacy, but being in its direct company was overwhelming and—if Ezra was perfectly honest—frightening. His bones turned cold. His skin crawled. His breath came out in a foggy mess.

And then the muzzle neared Ezra’s vulnerable neck.

He tensed, recognizing this—perhaps—as a demonstration of dominance, though there was an element of exploration and curiosity to it.

As the warm breath panted heavily across his neck, Ezra harnessed the Cold, ready and prepared in case the strike came. He wondered how many versions of Naraka existed. The sliver of Naraka dwelling in the Preta territory had been eager to please and happy to see Ezra. Was there more than just two? Was this the master personality?

He could handle this occasional abuse, yet a part of him knew that he had not yet encountered the worst.

He turned his head and boldly met eyes with the wolf, noticing they were no longer an icy blue but a ruddy red. “I’m here to help Naraka. I’m here to help _you._ ” At his proclamation, the wolf’s ears twitched before angling forward. A low growl rumbled in its chest. “You don’t have to like me,” Ezra continued firmly. “You just have to cooperate with me.”

The hackles rose and the teeth came at him swiftly.

Ezra barely moved in time. As he erected an ice wall between them, the snarling wolf was suddenly gone. The black canine disappeared in a cloud of wispy smoke, proof it was not a physical being but rather an illusion itself.

What about Naraka was not an illusion?

He stood from the ground, taking a moment to compose himself before deciding on a direction to wander until he found the others.

Despite the wolf disappearing, the heavy presence of Naraka did not leave. He could feel its obsessive attention as he explored the world around him. Doing his best to ignore it, Ezra examined the wildlife with a keen eye. There were several animals he crossed paths with, most of them appearing quite ordinary. From squirrels, to rabbits, to birds, the ground’s pale light highlighted their ordinary appearances.

There was no rotting flesh, no glowing white eyes.

It wasn’t far into the trees when he stumbled across the source of Naraka’s light.

A fat worm lay curled on top of a pile of snow and radiated brightly. Because it was not buried underground like all the others, its ray of light was similar in strength to a bright lightbulb. Its flesh was pale, and as Ezra crouched down to observe the glowing worm more closely, he realized it was a portly grub _._ Or a version of one that could clearly survive the cold.

Were they even alive? Was everything here dead?

Standing back up, he grimaced at the glowing ground.

As beautiful as it was, he now envisioned all the grubs culturing and squirming beneath the snowy ground, wondering just how many ventured above it.

He soon discovered that _many_ grubs made their way above the snow. And they made an incredibly satisfying crunch if he _unintentionally_ stepped on one. The light extinguishing always sent a thrill through Ezra, though after three destroyed grubs, he decided it was best to respect the land and refrain from crushing them with his boot.

Moving swiftly through the woods, he occasionally caught a glimpse of a trail of fire, each trail larger and brighter than the one before it. Ironically, the racing flames created a wide berth around him, clearly unable to sense or penetrate whatever barrier Naraka had constructed around him.

Agni must have been livid.

The impression he gleaned from Agni’s side of their bond indicated the Fire God was immensely frustrated. Ezra tried to reach out and soothe him, though that hardly calmed Agni as the god all but balked at Ezra’s attempt.

Suddenly, a distant humming drone resonated across the trees, and a heavy smoke filled the air. Up ahead, shadowy figures emerged from the dense fog. Ezra moved stealthily behind a tree, grasping the hilt of his sword in eager preparation. He peered around the trunk, his hunter instincts falling way to fascination as the figures gradually took shape.

They were moving slowly, their backs slightly concave, and their appearance that of old, frail, and weathered men. Their darkly tanned skin was wrinkled and sagging in several areas. Their torsos were bare; the only source of clothing was the—was that a _lungi_?

Ezra’s eyes widened when he recognized the familiar article of clothing.

He suddenly wished Agni were here. He had so many questions. He couldn’t wait to reunite with the Fire God and get answers to all the things he’d seen here.

In their wrinkly hands, they swung lanterns of incense back and forth. They were clearly the source of the smoke and they also cast wide, unnerving shadows across the trees. Around their thin wrists were several pairs of beaded bracelets. Their hair—long and grey—was matted in what appeared to be dreadlocks, with numerous beads adorning the strands.

Their faces were gaunt and they all had an identical length of beard that stretched to their navels.

Warily, Ezra eyed the fog that expelled from their lanterns, having an intuition that it was a wise thing to stay clear of. As much as they intrigued him, he could not deny that disconcerting feeling as they stepped together with synchronized consistency. Whatever they were chanting was in a language Ezra could not discern.

Probably Sanskrit. 

And the tenor set his teeth on edge.

The group—around a dozen—had nearly passed Ezra’s hiding spot. Their attention remained fixated firmly ahead, having no interest in the world around them. Only, the last one in the formation suddenly turned his head, peering through the trees and locking eyes with Ezra.

He withheld a voiced noise of unease as he observed the glowing, sunken white eyes.

The old man’s face was ghastly pale compared to the rest of his body. It was a face to elicit dread, and even Ezra found himself stilling unnaturally at the sight of it. Fortunately—surprisingly—the old man turned back forward and rejoined his comrades in their eerie march through the trees.

Ezra turned around and pressed his back into the trunk, releasing a low, careful breath.

Just what was that? They’d resembled daemons in the sense that they were mostly mortal-like—yet they carried power. A subtle power that set them apart from the typical mortal soul commemorated upon death. They felt ancient to Ezra. Old, wise, and exalted. Yet also extremely dangerous.

He glanced back in their direction, noting they were a safe enough distance away.

Abandoning his place, he continued on his way.

The further he walked, the more heightened Agni’s frustration became. Ezra shied away from the simmering rage, wondering if Agni always carried with him a semblance of anger. It must be exhausting to harbor such extreme swings of emotion all the time. “Agni,” he called calmly with enough conviction to be a prayer.

Agni’s presence roused at the address and the temper tapered, but only just.

Before he could call again, the trees thinned and Ezra came across something that left him speechless.

Blindly moving forward, he stared uncomprehendingly at the towering dark castle. Yet what truly caught his attention was the deep gorge—or more appropriately—the cliff the castle seemed to balance precariously at the edge of. Half of the castle appeared to be built above ground, but from his position, he could see the majority of it was built into the overhang of the cliff.

Tearing his eyes away from the castle, Ezra stopped briefly before a large sign crafted from smooth grey stone.

The engravings were symbols he could not understand, though they appeared meticulously inscribed. His fingers traced the cold stone etchings, realizing the scripture resembled the tattoo on the back of his arm. It looked nothing like the language he was familiar with.

How could they—how did these symbols form _words_?

Was this Sanskrit?

Dropping his hand and wishing he could read what it said, he moved toward the cliffside. The closer he approached the edge of the cliff, the greater his wonder grew. He toed the edge of the drop, staring down into the bottomless valley. The drop was steep, the stairs nearly comical in their impractical and skinny structure.

As Ezra cast his gaze across the steep valley, he realized the castle wasn’t the only thing built into the cliff. There was an entire _city_ emerging from the cliffside, with several tiers and layers of stone-laid structures. The city was situated on the opposite side of the valley as the castle, and if he stared hard and long enough, he’d even think he saw light coming from the small windows of the city structures.

But it was deserted and empty, wasn’t it?

He contemplated on who—or what—would live there. Was the city just for Syphons and daemons? Was this not in lockdown?

It was pitiful how little he knew about his realm.

As his eyes returned to the formidable and sprawling castle, he immediately focused on another set of stairs leading down and around the structure. He hadn’t noticed them earlier. Unlike the unstable stairs that lined the cliffside, these appeared far more secure.

And they were.

He found himself descending the rocky staircase with nothing preventing him from falling off the unprotected ledge to his left. Whether it was Naraka or something else entirely, his focus was fixated on the door looming ahead. Tucked inside the cliff, it was nearly invisible until he reached the ledge. When he neared, it creaked open by itself, inviting him inside.

Almost as if he were in a trance, Ezra stepped inside without reservations.

Reservations he would have had if he were of sound mind.

Instead, his mind was clouded, his senses were dulled, and he moved without purpose into a circular throne room. The colossal room was lightened by a number of glass lanterns hanging on the columns. The lanterns—sconces? —were unusual enough to stop Ezra in his tracks. Peering at them more closely, he noticed they were silver and cylindrical, encasing a clear liquid that contained several glowing grubs. The grubs floated serenely within the lanterns, seemingly happy with their environment as they feasted off one another and reproduced glowing eggs.

He turned away, nauseated.

The empty throne sat facing a set of enormous panoramic windows that overlooked the city on the other side of the valley. The marble flooring stretched before Ezra, drawing attention to the massive rune engraved in the center of the room. It was a pentagram but entirely unfamiliar to Ezra despite him having obsessively studied demonology.

Lingering near the etched marble, Ezra suddenly felt the presence.

His eyes rose to the ghost town outside the windows before slowly turning around. What was once an empty throne was now preoccupied by a handsome, pale-haired god with ice-like eyes. The arrogance, the sense of rightful ownership of the throne, and the subtle darkness indicated this could only be—

“Yama.”

The god sat forward and clasped his hands together.

“Do not be alarmed, Raya,” his voice was sinfully smooth and infuriatingly haughty. “I see you clearly and you shall be judged fairly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter I forgot to mention our most recent fanart for Immunity! I'm so sorry, Suumoto! For those of you who do not follow me on Tumblr, Suumoto created some amazing edits/moodboards for [Ezra,](https://suumoto.tumblr.com/post/626304644025597952/im-never-going-to-leave-your-side-he-murmured) [Prithvi,](https://suumoto.tumblr.com/post/626369150741331968/theyll-replace-her-agni-continued-his-tone) and [Kai.](https://suumoto.tumblr.com/post/626383305679470592/kai-edlen-a-warrior-with-a-heart-of-gold-from) A huge thanks for the fantastic designs ♥ ♥
> 
> If you want to know what the name Raya means, as always, please search the Sanskrit definition :)


	15. Cleanse Me from My Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/Disclaimer: Slight gore/horror. This *is* hell... Also, I finished this chapter far too late to be edited, so read at your own risk 😉 There will be lots of typos and grammatical errors!

  1. **Cleanse Me from My Sin**



**_Raya_**

That name carried with it a melancholy pang of familiarity, yet he did not understand why.

It was like a suppressed dream that evaded his desperate reach. He could hear it being whispered as a hushed greeting by another, only it sounded all _wrong_ in Yama’s haughty tenor. 

Ezra resisted the temptation to look around the throne room for another person who may have garnered Yama’s address. But there was no reason to do so. Yama’s pale gaze was direct and honed precisely on him. It was undoubtedly another one of Naraka’s illusions, or, if Ezra was unfortunate enough, he was looking at yet another manifestation of Yama’s torn Essence and soul.

There was no subtle red-gold hue around him, which indicated he was not a god, but possibly a Syphon. Yet color shrouded his appearance. From the sharp arctic blue of his eyes to the cool strands of his shoulder-length hair. While his skin appeared pale, it was flawless and flushed with _warmth._ And by god, Ezra swore he saw Indra in Yama. It was in those bright, gleeful eyes and in that arrogant, nearly placating smile.

Chitragupta had some explaining to do.

Ezra moved forward slowly, his steps cautious but tight with anticipation.

He was interested to see how this proceeded.

Moreover, he was interested to see how the God of Death and Justice operated on the throne.

The lines of the rune emitted a brilliant blue light as he walked confidently into the center of the pentagram. Evidently, he’d triggered it earlier upon his entrance. Something told him he would not be leaving the perimeter of the rune until Naraka—or Yama—deemed his trial finished.

“I have sinned on a number of occasions,” Ezra informed unconcernedly as he played along. “Will you cast me into the pits of hell for eternal suffering?”

There were times he wished he would have paid more attention to the Igni religion and Agni’s Scrolls as a mortal. It was a bit ironic that he was now ruler of the underworld mentioned in those scriptures. He couldn’t remember all the ‘sins’ listed in those Scrolls, yet he knew he was not without corruption.

“Proper penance is necessary to absolve the soul of sin and prepare it for the next phase of its journey,” Yama replied straightforwardly. “Yet Naraka is not a place of permanent residency. There is no such thing as ‘eternal suffering’.” Yama suddenly smiled with teeth. “Just the possibility of several years of torment.”

A bright light unexpectedly beamed down upon Ezra.

Squinting, he looked up, observing the massive, three-tiered ring chandelier suspended above him. It emitted a white, almost blue luminosity with small scriptures etched on the sides.

Suddenly, the sound of water drew his attention away from the chandelier. The trickling water broke the silence gently at first, then rapidly. He looked down, realizing the rune had dimmed to a mere blue smolder and the marbled floors were now transparent. Like ice. Beneath his feet was a dark, foggy river, evidently running through the cliffs and directly under the throne room.

Faces and hands pressed yearningly against the floor, causing Ezra’s stomach to wrench with guilt, agony, and sympathy. Several shadowy limbs flowed in a massive clump—as if overcrowded—and then there were numerous souls which were merely silver orbs.

Cyra would be there. Keegan. As would several other precious souls.

Encircling his fingers around his mourning braids, Ezra swallowed with difficulty. Tearing his eyes from the mortal souls, he found Yama watching him indolently, though those pale blue eyes held anything _but_ indolence as they peered through him and into his soul.

Ezra exhaled levelly at the sheer force behind those eyes, impressed and wondering if he would have—or already had—the same effect on others.

He felt oddly insignificant when he observed Yama on that throne. _On his throne._

The times he had ruled Concordia, or dictated meetings with the Royal Council, were times he’d felt at home. He enjoyed ruling. He enjoyed the authority and the politics. It had only been mere days since he last sat on a throne, yet being away from it all and thrust into such a new, unknown environment made him nearly lose sight of his identity.

Society here proclaimed he was a mere fledgling. A newborn. Someone who was naïve, incapable, and meant to be handled with care.

He was none of those things, nor would he allow society to dictate how he approached this new world. He was the God of Death and Justice. King of the Deceased. Equal to Agni. It was essential he shroud himself in those roles and channel the same energy as Yama.

 _Not_ that Yama was an ideal role model, but his authority was unmistakable. 

“The _Vaitarna_ River.” Yama released a quiet, forlorn sigh and looked above Ezra’s head and out toward the ghost city. “The river is overflowing with mortal souls on many levels. We have much to accomplish before those mortal souls can find a way out of the water and become neglected, twisted entities. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the Naraka we inherited, now would we, Chitragupta?”

The figure appeared nearly out of thin air.

If Ezra hadn’t been convinced this was an illusion before, he certainly was now.

Chit…

Ezra’s mouth twisted bitterly as a version of Chitragupta breezed past him with a self-assured gait. There was a healthy glow and grace about him as he climbed the dais and settled next to Yama’s throne. His white-blond hair was cut the same length as it was now and parted to the side. Though he was pale, he wasn’t nearly as pale as Yama, harboring enough color to set him apart from his Syphon self.

As Chit looked up, Ezra was relieved to see the same eyes belonging to the Chit of today.

Pale grey—a silver just like his father’s.

Dressed sharply in all black, Chitragupta carried an unusual amount of sober sophistication. He carried himself like a thoroughbred royal, Ezra noted fondly. “With all those rampant Pretas, Bhutas, and Lost Sages? No, we would not,” Chitragupta answered Yama distractedly. “Better if you and I distribute the workload.” He focused on Ezra and held out his arm. Encircled around his right forearm was a bracer. “ _Mucyate_!” 

Ezra’s shadow, which was cast heavily across the ice-like floor, quivered before breaking away from him.

The black mass suspended briefly—as if disorientated—before warping and bursting forth in a fierce flurry of black feathers. Exuberated over its freedom, the bird soared and looped serenely around Chitragupta and Yama before landing on the former’s outstretched forearm. Allowing the bird to ascend to his shoulder, Chitragupta pulled out a leather-bound book from his satchel and held the pages open.

Chitragupta then proceeded to pluck a feather from the crow and position it over the pages like a quill. Once released from its owner’s hold, the feather began scribbling hastily over the pages and Chitragupta followed its progress with a rapid absorption rate.

Ezra surveyed Chitragupta curiously, noticing both he and Yama wore a pair of gloves. 

_Death’s Hand._

Was that literal? Was this somehow tied in with Ezra’s skeletal hand?

That couldn’t be right. Chit would have said something. He wouldn’t have acted as if Ezra’s hand were an anomaly. Naraka was the reason behind his pain, behind the progression of bone.

Nothing else.

“There are twenty-eight levels of hell reserved specifically for handling the penance of mortal souls,” Yama said quietly, his voice spellbinding. “Which ones will you inhabit?”

The throne room seemed to fall away, leaving Ezra standing underneath the relentlessly revealing spotlight with the despairing souls trapped beneath his feet. Everything else was cast in an ambiguous shadow, designed to make him exposed. A mortal soul standing in his place would feel intimidated, undoubtedly fearful of the fate awaiting them.

Yama and Chitragupta peered down at him, the light casting them just right to discern their omnisciently cold gazes. The sound of rushing water seemed to quiet, and just as a cold fog furled across the ground, a red glimmer appeared behind Yama’s throne. It flickered unpromisingly in the unfathomable darkness, striking a dreadful chord within Ezra.

Surely…

Surely Naraka did not intend for him to actually repent for his sins…

 _It is nothing but an illusion,_ Ezra reminded himself. Chitragupta was now a Syphon. Yama was dead—most of his Essence living within Ezra. Naraka was exerting its dominance and frustrations. Nothing more. It wanted Ezra to prove his loyalty and dedication to his new position as its Reaper.

If that meant facing the bowels of purgatory, then so be it.

The crow’s feather scratched eerily across the pages, sounding similar to scraping nails. “Ezra Zale Talise.” Chitragupta looked up once the feather halted and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. “You stand before us to hear your judgement. Have you anything to say in defense of the sins you have committed in your lifetime?”

Ezra’s attention was drawn back to Yama, who leaned back in his throne and reached fondly for the weapon that appeared at his side. The dark scythe moved into the light, its curved blade glinting mischievously at Ezra. It wasn’t a weapon Ezra was familiar with anyone wielding, and he wondered if it served a different purpose other than combat.

“The good outweighs the bad,” Ezra answered wryly. “That has to count for something, does it not?”

The two stared at him before twin grins appeared.

“It is the mortal soul’s obligation to seek liberation from _samsara_ —the cycle of life, death, and reincarnation. We call that liberation _moksha._ Your soul has not achieved moksha,” Yama said dryly. “Far from it, little one. Moreover, one must achieve moksha while abstaining from sin. You have sinned a great deal in your short existence, often at the expense of others, and you feel no remorse.”

Ezra recognized the concept, at least in the vague sense of what he remembered hearing as a child about the Igni religion. The terms, however, were entirely new. “It is nearly impossible to live an existence free of sin.”

“And yet…” Yama crooned dangerously, “there are hundreds of thousands of mortal souls who have achieved _moksha_ and have been blessed entrance to _Svarge,_ the eternal paradise.” 

“And it is you who decides if they’ve achieved moksha and earned a place in Heaven. Certainly, one could garner more leniency from you. Those souls who have reached that level of purity and excellency clearly had a comfortable existence,” Ezra argued. “They were fortunate they did not have to struggle to survive. Survival often leads to sin.”

“Hardships are intended to present you with crossroads,” Chitragupta said. He and the crow, which remained perched upon his shoulder, stared unblinkingly at Ezra. “There are those who will succumb to sin and excuse it by said hardships. Then there are those who will travel an even more challenging path just to surmount over the temptations of sin.”

“Now, now, Chitragupta, he does raise a valid argument. We are not entirely without empathy.” Yama readjusted his hold on the scythe and peered relentlessly down at Ezra. “Survival of the fittest. You not only had yourself to look after, but also an ill mother. Food was scarce. Shelter was never guaranteed. Crime filled your streets and infiltrated every aspect of your life. One must adapt to one’s surroundings in order to endure.” 

Ezra watched Yama suspiciously, sensing the entity was not quite finished.

“But tell me, _Ezra,_ what did those men and women do to deserve your total lack of respect? You fooled them with a lure, used them, and then discarded them afterward.”

He’d known it was coming.

And he still hadn’t come up with a reasonable answer to his past…exploits.

“Was laying with them about survival as well?” Yama inquired sarcastically.

_To a degree…_

“As well, stealing from a copious amount of vulnerable men and women destroyed many of those lives. You were entirely ignorant to the damage you’d dealt them in your quest to rob them of their own insignificant wealth—”

“ _No_. I have repented for that!” Ezra stepped forward, roused and defiant. “I was shown the injustice of my actions and sought to atone for my past deeds. I often went hungry in an attempt to serve those less fortunate. I committed my very _life_ to help those in need. My dedication has, and always will, be on liberating those who are suffering.”

He approached Yama and Chitragupta, stopping only when the toes of his boots could not pass the rune’s perimeter.

Gazing up at Yama, he conveyed a proud and strong countenance. “If this is your way of punishing me, Naraka, then you best judge fairly. You know me better than anyone. Drop the act and let’s be done with this. I know I’d like to move forward. Wouldn’t you?”

Yama and Chitragupta flickered.

For just a blink of an eye, Ezra was standing in the empty and cold throne room.

And then it all returned.

“So be it.” Yama moved his scythe to the side and the blade faced the direction of the red light. “For your promiscuous ways, _Puyodakam_ will be your first destination, followed by _Dandasukam_ for manslaughter and your persecution of others. Be fortunate I do not punish you for your lavish abuse of liquor. I believe you would have enjoyed the taste of molten lava.”

The scythe emitted a pulsating, wicked energy as it reflected the red light from the depths of the throne room.

Yama then lowered the scythe as if he were severing a line.

A sterling silver lasso whipped out from the darkest corner of the throne room. Ezra seized up as it wrapped several times around his torso, nearly cutting off his ability to breathe. He stared defiantly at Yama—Naraka—as the lasso dragged him out of the rune’s perimeter and toward the flickering red light.

“Welcome home, Reaper,” Yama serenaded before he and Chitragupta disappeared.

Without its owner, the scythe struck the floor and rebounded once, before clattering to a stop.

The translucent floors turned back to its glossy white sheen, the blue rune turned dark, and the ring chandelier dimmed before extinguishing entirely. Ezra considered the empty and inactive throne room in bemusement before the lasso pulled him into a curtain of darkness. Now that everything turned back to the way it was, but the lasso remained a tight restraint, was this no longer part of the illusion? Was it real? It couldn’t be, would—

Ezra found himself freefalling.

The drop was unbelievably fast and steep.

He could have sworn his stomach traveled up his throat.

Making a noise of distress, he curled his hands around the glowing lasso. He kept his eyes squinted—barely open—recognizing the importance of seeing where he was going. He quickly bypassed several levels, the vast majority snowy realms, some with vegetation, others a frozen block of ice. His window of observation was fleeting, and then everything turned entirely black.

Even the lasso.

His descent slowed. 

The temperature was frigid—frigid enough to freeze his fingers and nip at his toes. His face hardened. He could not blink. Could not breathe. An eerie sound of ice cracking reverberated across the dark and the lasso jerked oddly. Fearing the line would snap, Ezra quickly grabbed the lasso tighter, ignoring how the quick action tore his frozen joints. 

His pulse hammered wildly against his ribcage as his feet swung above nothing.

Just as he believed his body would succumb to the cold, he descended out of the darkness and continued his descent with the same velocity he’d begun with. This time, his surroundings were encased with red. The levels he passed were filled with nothing but screams of agony and torment. Had these mortal souls truly deserved the hundred years of sufferings? Or were they neglected from Yama’s absence?

Ezra observed flashes of hot irons, floggings, large pools of oil, and blood.

The smell was a sweltering mix of human secretions and heat.

Suddenly, the lasso unraveled from his torso and Ezra found his hands grasping at empty air. He dropped, flailing as he attempted to twist his body just right before it hit the ground. He managed to land in a half crouch, one knee hitting the unforgiving ground awkwardly and causing pain to flare up to his hip. 

Before he could recover and take a proper look at his surroundings, several pairs of gloved hands grabbed him. His captives were cloaked with tatty hooded robes, their faces obscured.

Echoed screams reverberated oddly across his surroundings, putting him further on edge. He thrashed against the arms holding him captive before someone grabbed his feet and swung him effortlessly off the ground. The Cold was not his companion this time, no matter how obstinately Ezra reached for it to defend himself. It led Ezra to believe this really was an illusion. Otherwise, the Cold would have been here with him.

He was meant to be vulnerable in these trials.

Ezra bucked against the hold as they approached a metal well protruding from the dirt ground. As Ezra raised his eyes, he stared in disbelief at the sheer number of wells dotting the distance. They appeared all uniform and precise, stretching across the barren land and resembling gravestones at a commoner’s cemetery.

The imagery was horrifying enough to chill Ezra despite the oppressive heat.

The echoed screams finally made sense. A range of hoarse and broken sobs resounded oddly within the other wells, as did audible gurgling and retching.

His captives held him over the well before rotating his bucking body around and tossing him down.

The descent seemed never ending. Water did not break his fall, but rather a thick substance that barely parted enough to cushion his fall. Ezra submerged under the sludge before forcing his way back to the surface. His entire body trembled with horror at the _smell_ and the _texture._

_Oh god._

Breaking the surface, he immediately noticed his eyes were covered with a mucus-like film.

He moaned in dismay and peeled the thick phlegm from his face. It clung to his fingers like bloodied snot. The red light from above was bright enough for him to see inside the well—purposefully—he imagined. When he surveyed his surroundings, he realized it was a well full of brown sludge with bloodied white floating bits…most likely an accumulation of shit, phlegm, blood, and piss.

His stomach clenched painfully and he gagged.

Nothing was in his stomach.

Excessive saliva expelled from his mouth as he retched again and again, spitting up foamy spit and adding it to the shit around him. The smell inside the well burned his nostrils and his lungs. He could taste it. The aroma was extremely noxious. As he treaded through the impossibly thick sludge, it made wet, indecent _squelching_ noises. The sound was impossible to ignore. It reminded him of the bedroom.

He imagined he would never think highly of those noises of passion again.

It was a pity. He had always liked the depravity of it.

The longer he floated undisturbed inside the well, the calmer he became as he brainstormed a way out of his foul-smelling misery. It wouldn’t be that easy, would it? If it was designed to be escapable, the other mortal souls would not still be here. He assumed this torment was designed for reflection while simultaneously being surrounded in an environment unfit for even an animal.

As he seriously considered diving down to the bottom, he began to wonder if it was entirely all spiritual. Perhaps he needed to reflect on his past deeds, come to terms with them, and only then would he be released when he felt humbled for his actions. 

They’d all been consenting. It had been fun. Silly.

He’d been a kid. _They’d_ been kids.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it? It hadn’t been just fun, nor silly.

Adeen Zohar had been his first.

He’d been timid and immensely nervous. She’d been patient and indulgent, never knowing the reason for his nervousness, but assuming it was his inexperience and age. After mustering up his courage, they’d been compatible enough that he’d felt too many warring emotions for her. He hadn’t wanted a relationship. He hadn’t wanted to find someone he could love.

Yet she could have been all those things if he’d stayed.

After he left Adeen, the memory of those invasive hands had returned and he’d sought another conquest.

Only, this time, he had been careful not to linger and establish a bond with the others. It was about wooing the most beautiful and the most challenging. It was about exerting his dominance. It was about pressing them down and having his way with them. Anything to erase that helpless and vulnerable feeling attributed to sex. He didn’t want to be abnormal and different from others.

He had wanted the hands to disappear. 

He’d had desperately needed control and companionship—no matter how false it had been.

Eventually, through diligent work, distractions, and maturity, he had succeeded in making those hands disappear. But at what price? He’d created a child who had grown up without a father. He’d left behind lovers who undoubtedly felt just as used as he’d felt as a young child. As consensual as it might have been, he’d still treated them callously afterward.

Perhaps they’d felt dirty.

As dirty as he felt now.

A hand suddenly curled around his ankle and tugged him beneath the thick, slimy surface.

*** * * ***

Moving behind the columns of the darkened throne room brought forth a plethora of memories. Memories from old, memories of a simpler time. The nostalgia was both bitter and prodigious in its resentment as he recalled a time where family was once close-knit, and the future appeared bright and thriving despite the fall of supreme and superior ancient deities.

Everything had been in order. Everything had been in proper place.

Until it had all shattered and splintered into chaos.

But he was not here to reminisce.

His sights were focused exclusively on the lithe figure standing motionlessly in the middle of the throne room, entirely ignorant to his surroundings. Quite the vulnerable position to be in, yet one could not mistake the cold fog unfurling near the Reaper’s feet or the way the air dried with sharp static and warning.

The Reaper may not be present.

But his powers were certainly active and expanding.

Indra likened it to many of the cornered, wild beasts he’d battled against. Physically at a disadvantage, but incredibly unpredictable and at its most dangerous.

He moved around the column and approached the Reaper with slow and measured steps. With a distracted wave of his hand, he forced the others to remain where they were.

The closer he approached, the deeper the cold permeated through his clothing. His very bones cooled as he stopped opposite of the Reaper, noticing the fledgling’s boots situated just inside the perimeter of the rune. Moving his staff forward, he shed light across the vacant red-blue eyes. Immediately, Indra noted the eyes did not respond to the light.

Distant movement over Ezra’s head caught Indra’s attention.

He lifted his gaze and observed the city situated directly across the throne room. The small, nearly indistinguishable lights emitting from the city slowly extinguished. From left, to right. As if warned. As if hurrying to evacuate before Indra took notice. But that could not be unless—

Indra pressed his lips together with displeasure, the pieces falling into place.

_Agni._

“Find and gather the deities who thought to make home here,” he ordered the elite warriors who’d accompanied him. “Make haste.”

The warriors all heeded his orders—having caught the same observation as Indra—and escaped from the throne room. Only when he could no longer hear their retreat did he refocus on the vulnerable Reaper. Now alone, Indra obsessively absorbed the attractive features, eagerly honing in on the similarities that linked him back to a legend who was several centuries deceased. 

It was entirely unmistakable that Rudra _was_ there in Ezra’s appearance. Painstakingly so.

His face was sharp and clear with confidently defined features, and yet there was also a beautiful allure that separated him from the Destroyer. Was this indication of a mother? Which further complicated matters, for the Trimurti’s counterparts were just as absent as their godly partners. Moreover, Rudra hadn’t been married, only in a courtship _._ If Brahma had created Ezra by using leftover remnants—whatever those may be—of his deceased brother, did that truly make Ezra the Destroyer’s fledgling? Or did that make him a version of Rudra?

The only way Ezra was a true child of the Destroyer was if Rudra had created him himself or with a goddess before his death. Which begged the question of where Ezra had been all this time.

Indra’s fingers curled tightly around his staff as he peered closer and urged himself to _see._

No matter how blatant the resemblance, determining the bloodline of the Reaper on appearance alone proved unreliable when there were other family members to consider. Which left character. And personality. From what Indra knew of the Reaper, he focused on maintaining equality among all. He was passionate about his beliefs, oftentimes leading to obsessiveness.

That was a trait of Vishnu. A maintainer. A preserver.

But Ezra’s interests often lay with protecting the darker forces. Lesser forces. Seeing them—just as well as anyone—necessary and critical to existence. _That_ was a trait belonging to both Rudra and Brahma. Vishnu had typically sided with the Devas, preserved the Devas and their beliefs. He saw the good as the maintainers of the universe.

Rudra…

Rudra had often granted boons and gifts to those lesser beings—like the Asuras—so long as they impressed him with their dedication and disciplined tenacity.

Brahma was distracted—inactive. He was far more inclined to love all and any of his creations despite their flaws. While immensely powerful, Brahma’s nonparticipation in the here and now oftentimes created problems that resulted in powerful foes for the Devas.

It occurred to Indra that basing the Reaper’s parentage off personality proved just as needless as basing it off appearance. Afterall, the Four all demonstrated different personalities despite Brahma being their father. Agni was far too much like Rudra, Vayu far too much like Vishnu, Prithvi identical to both her father and Saraswati, and Varuna a complex mess of all three members of the Trimurti.

Moreover, Agni raised the Reaper.

There were prone to be naturally occurring attributes that had been twisted and warped under the guided hands of the Fire God.

Indra reached over and laid a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. His fingers submerged in the silver fur around the shoulders, pressing down until he found the collarbone.

Touching the untouchable always proved to elicit a thrill.

His hand tightened possessively, garnering no reaction from the vacant Reaper, but one from the cold fog. It swarmed more quickly between their feet, climbing up Indra’s legs in warning and all but emanating an audible hiss.

“Relax,” Indra murmured levelly. “I pose no threat.”

The fog did not retract, but it did return some feeling to Indra’s legs the longer he remained passive.

He shook the Reaper’s shoulder once, peering into those uniquely exceptional eyes. Keeping one hand curled around the shoulder, Indra turned to see where the fledgling’s attention was focused. Surprisingly, the eyes were not on the throne, but several feet to the right where the dark overlapped to create a bottomless void. Just before it, laying near the throne, was Yama’s abandoned scythe.

Indra eyed it untrustworthily before turning back and assessing Ezra’s breathing. While it was slow and shallow, the Reaper _was_ breathing.

Naraka had several mysteries. Several temperaments. But it would never kill its Reaper.

Would it?

Momentarily, he thought of his nephew, and even his own son, before revising his assumption. No. Naraka would never kill its Reaper so abruptly. It preferred the slow deterioration of the mental state. Nothing good came from this realm. No matter how diligent, no matter how dedicated Yama was to clean Naraka’s taint, the realm had transformed him instead.

Such promise.

Curdled and blackened with irrationality.

Indra would take care to keep a sharp eye on their new Reaper. There were secrets here Indra preferred Ezra not stumble across. Maintaining a tight rein around Ezra may prove difficult, but it was _essential_ for a myriad of reasons.

One of those reasons—

Indra tightened his already fierce hold, inching his grip ever so closer to the throat with unrestrained and roused elation. A fledgling belonging to the Destroyer… He would question it until he received his answers, but it truly was _unmistakable_. It was here. Right here in his hands.

Controlling his anticipation proved difficult as he moved his hand down Ezra’s chest and toward the coat fastenings.

Waking the god proved vital, yes, but before that—he wanted to _see_ the tattoo properly.

The one he could have sworn said—

“You look as excited and as clumsy as a god preparing to break his chastity.”

Indra inhaled deeply to control his surprise. He released Ezra as if burned, turning and watching the figure emerge from the shadows of the throne room. “Skulking is a deplorable trait, Agni.”

“And undressing an unconscious god is not equally as deplorable?” Agni’s eyes gleamed dangerously.

Indra straightened to his full height as Agni closed in. The Fire God hovered jealously around the Reaper, his gaze alight with protective rage. “There is no indecent intent behind my actions.” Knowing Agni’s penchant for volatility, Indra kept his ground and remained vigilant. “You know very well what I was going to look for.”

“Which begs the question of how you knew about it in the first place,” Agni crooned. “Voyeurism, Indra, is _especially_ deplorable and indecent.”

Indra raised an eyebrow.

Wishing to poke more, but sensing the very edge of Agni’s control, Indra nodded toward the city outside the windows and vied to change the subject. “It had been far too coincidental that Dhumavati and the other deities had escaped penitentiary the same day you grounded in the mortal realm. Now I see someone has also alerted them to evacuate before my arrival here.”

As if proving his point, more lights extinguished from the distant capital.

“Just where are your Syphons, Agni?” Indra wondered with an overexaggerated look around the throne room.

“Looking for Ezra.”

Indra quickly refocused on Agni, recognizing that the god’s bluntness was attributed to the Reaper’s condition. It served no purpose trying to goad Agni when he was in this state. Indra couldn’t say he blamed the god, though he was always pleased when Agni demonstrated anything other than his detached, scheming countenance. The Reaper clearly meant a great deal to the Fire God, and Indra pondered on the ramifications of such a bond and how he would maneuver around it.

It was imperative he form his own relationship with the Reaper.

Indra sighed lowly. “You and I both know that Naraka is eager to have its Reaper. It will return Ezra once it has finished playing.”

Agni’s stare was direct and blasé. “Where would I be without your assurance?”

Unimpressed with the sarcasm, Indra dropped his own guise and returned Agni’s stare. With Rudra’s fledgling between them, the two gods silently clashed.

*** * * ***

Ezra gargled the sludge and swallowed several mouthfuls. His stomach churned violently at the taste and he thrashed aggressively against the hand pulling him deeper. His lungs expanded painfully as they fought for air. A second hand joined the first, curling around his other leg and yanked him further away from the surface.

He relived his earlier drowning in the cold lake, fretting over the reality of it happening a second time.

But it was inevitable.

No matter how fiercely he fought, no matter how hard he kicked, the hands would not leave him. He grew lightheaded. His limbs relaxed and his lungs filled with vile sludge.

His senses dulled before he fell unconscious.

When his consciousness returned, he was being tossed down the well again.

The smell was just as foul as it was the first time he’d smelt it. The sludge breaking his fall was just as slimy and thick. As he swam to the surface and broke through the muck, he gasped the reeking air selfishly, filling his lungs with the much-needed air. His hand smeared against the smooth metal walls of the well, futilely searching for anything to anchor him in place.

A single sob escaped his mouth as he felt the hand curl around his ankle.

_No!_

Taking in one last mouthful of air, Ezra’s hand slipped down the walls as he was pulled into the depths once more. This time, he fought the assailant fiercer, kicking his legs wildly, twisting around and reaching for the hand curled around his ankle. Only, the fiercer he fought, the more hands joined the first, pulling him faster into the depths of the well.

His pulse resonated in his ears, wildly at first, before slowing and stopping all together.

When he blacked out, it was not long before he felt himself being thrown back in the well.

He screamed at the top of his lungs on his way down, wondering when he’d lost his mind.

On his fourth, fifth, and sixth time down, he was silent and resigned to his fate.

On his seventh time down, his resignation turned to cold fury. It was all fun and games for Naraka. Did the realm truly feel as if Ezra deserved an endless loop of drowning and dying in _shit_? Ezra may have avoided his duties here as Reaper, but only because the mortal realm had needed him. He hadn’t felt ready to embrace this side of his destiny until he’d been _ready._

He was not going to be subjected to this torment.

This was his realm.

As he broke the surface once more, he lunged across the well and reached high, pressing a snot-covered palm against the metal walls. Nothing would be there but a smooth sheen of metal, serving no other purpose than to encase the smells with suffocating consistency. Ezra scratched the metal, rising above the fear of being dragged below again and focusing resolutely on the walls.

It was his realm.

_His. Realm._

Scratching the walls until his fingers bled, he recalled Naraka bending to his will when he dealt with the Pretas. He channeled that same confidence and authority as he continued reaching for that anchor that was not there. He envisioned it so clearly in his mind. A rung. Welded to the side and sturdy enough to hold his weight.

The rung appeared just as the hand shot through the sludge.

Fingers wrapped around his ankle and yanked, but Ezra managed to grab hold of the rung seconds before the hand made contact.

While holding strong against the force pulling him down, he reaching high with his opposite hand, grasping at the smooth surface of the well and willing for another rung to appear. It did after several seconds of inane groping, appearing in time for Ezra to avoid several more hands that broke through the sludge.

His ascension was slow, but his mentality remained frostily determined and fixated.

There was a force—unarguably Naraka—that fought him with each rung conjured. He cared little for Naraka’s fight and conquered its resistance with calm authority. His boots, covered with stringy goo and slime, oftentimes slipped off the rungs. He’d hang on by a single hand, pulling himself up until he regained his footing. His gaze remained tunneled and focused above, his command and power only growing with each rung that appeared.

The red light from above grew brighter.

Ezra slowed once he reached the top of the well.

He did not look back down—had no interest to do so—but rather focused on his surroundings with single-minded intensity. Muscles coiled, he slowly peeked over the well, prepared for the cloaked figures to jump out and push him back down.

Only, a dark forest met his scrutiny.

He was no longer in the middle of a wasteland of metal wells.

Clutching the rungs of his conjured ladder, Ezra assessed the dark trees that whispered delightedly upon his arrival and urged him inside. Turning his head, he realized the trees enclosed him in all directions. It was undoubtedly his next level of purgatory. He did not remember what Naraka had called it—but it was meant to be his punishment for his acts of manslaughter.

Having no other option, Ezra climbed from the well and jumped down.

As soon as his boots hit the dirt ground, he was no longer soaked with sludge and slime.

Behind him, the well disappeared.

The first thing he noted, aside from the ominousness of the dark forest, was the sound of cheerful birds singing amongst each other within the trees. They did nothing to alleviate the feeling of maliciousness that secreted from the woods, if anything, they only served to increase the level of uncanniness. The sky above was a malevolent maroon, contrasting sharply with the dark, gnarly tree branches that curved and arched high above him.

Despite the singing birds, it was almost _too_ quiet.

There were no screams of other mortal souls.

Already feeling his sense of calm and confidence wane, Ezra started forward, moving around a dead tree branch that appeared like a broken skeletal hand. The weight of eyes was unmistakable as he moved without direction. Peering into the trees, he could see nothing but motionless silhouettes that could have been a part of the vegetation. Or more accurately, they were intelligent predators. Ezra reached behind his shoulder, unsurprised when his fingers grasped at nothing but air.

There would be no sword there.

It was all about the vulnerability, he reminded himself, and his most recent discovery, strength of mind and willpower.

This was his realm.

_His realm. His realm._

A twig snapped and Ezra stopped abruptly. Opening his senses, he searched for the cause of the sound, realizing the birds had stopped their singing. Above, the sky darkened, clearly in league with the predator lurking nearby who remained utterly undetected from Ezra’s sharp senses.

Deliberately, he continued forward, his steps cautious and rigid. No matter how silently, no matter how gracefully he moved, that weight of observation continued to follow him. The tension remained so high, he just wanted to scream to break it. Whatever was watching, whatever followed, he just wanted it to come at him just to destroy the stress of the unknown.

The small hairs rose on the back of his neck.

Ezra stopped once more and slowly turned his head.

At first, he assumed the silhouette standing behind him was a mere buck. It stood proudly on four legs, and its antlers were held high. But as it stepped forward jerkily, the maroon sky from above shed light across the deformed body. Wide and dead, milky eyes stared out at him. Its mouth was decayed, pulling back from its lips and revealing the sharp teeth. Some of its antlers, broken. The skin around its ribcage peeled and revealing the bones beneath.

A string of drool caught what was left of its bottom jaw and descended to the ground near its bony legs.

Ezra stiffened, the sight of it alone causing his mind to blank and his pulse to race. Around him, figures emerged from the dark trees, all decayed, all focused intently on him.

One of them released a hair-rising call and they lunged at him simultaneously.

Choked with fear, Ezra turned and sprinted through the trees, knowing—on a subconscious level—he was doing more harm than good by running. Their uneven strides hit the ground with loud persistence. A pair of jaws snapped around his calf, bringing him down. He hit the ground hard and the teeth impaled his leg deeper before pulling away and bringing the muscle and skin with it.

The pain was on a level he’d never experienced before. He screamed and cried, his adrenaline managing to get him back on his hands and knees. But several other jaws enclosed around him, stabbing and tearing into his body.

He was forced back onto the ground.

 _His realm,_ his mind mocked wickedly.

But all he could think about was _Agni, Agni, god Agni—_

He blacked out as the decayed animals eagerly descended upon him, all the while, the cheerful birds resumed their joyful singing.

Briefly, he came to, hearing the wet chewing and the tearing. The pain was almost a distant sensation as he witnessed the gore around him, oddly detached from it and wondering if this was what Skanda had felt if he'd been alive by this point. That terror—the horror—of seeing others partake in one’s flesh. Seeing parts of one’s limbs detached from its body and being treated like gourmet game.

He willed himself to fall back unconscious, unable to observe more, but knowing what he had seen would always stay with him.

When he returned to consciousness, he was standing back underneath the dead branch that looked like a skeletal hand. Back to where he’d started. Back to where the only noise was the faint whispers of the woods and the cheerful birds. There was no longer the sound of uneven strides of half-dead creatures vying for a taste of his flesh.

For a moment, his body trembled and shook uncontrollably, and he sucked in deep breaths to control his silent sobs.

He could already feel the eyes of the predators on him within the trees.

He was terrified.

Terrified he’d never find a way out of this loop. It was immeasurably more horrifying than the well.

A low growl sounded just to his right, breaking through his fog of horror. He turned slowly, seeing the black wolf stalk just at the edge of the trees. Unlike the other animals here, it was not decayed, nor rotting. It looked directly at Ezra, its red eyes piercing through him just as Yama’s had done earlier on the throne.

Gazing into its eyes brought with it a level of calm and rationality.

 _It is an illusion,_ he reminded himself. _It is an illusion._ Just with the ice lake, just with the hands inside the filthy well, this was just as much an illusion as all the others. And just like all the others, Ezra needed to realize he wielded as much authority as Naraka. Even without the Cold, even without a weapon, he had power here. These trials weren’t so much about absolving his soul of sin, or proving himself worthy as Reaper.

This was about learning how to harness his power as Naraka’s master.

This was about rising up and meeting Naraka on its own level.

Ezra faced forward, fiercely determined to push away the sentiments of being eaten alive. He leaped up and tore a branch from the dying tree, whipping it around and willing it to transform into the weapon of his choice. As he sprinted through the woods, the decayed bucks came at him wildly, emitting uncanny battle cries.

Planting his boot into the ground, Ezra pivoted and swung the double-sided sword, immediately beheading the closest beast. He drove the head of the blade through another’s neck, ripping apart the jaws with brutal satisfaction. With wicked glee, he spun the sword and shoved the blades into the chests and open mouths of the creatures, annihilating them and hacking them to pieces.

The more creatures he destroyed, the more that came at him.

Never again would he watch his skin and muscle tear and stretch between the jaws of these creatures.

A delirious laugh bubbled up his throat. This was not their realm.

He was the master here.

Despite his renewed fight, and the growing bodies of his fallen prey, he was not without his own injuries. A pair of jaws tore through his right thigh. Another pair of jaws took a large chunk from his side. Ezra fought through the excruciating pain, using that pain and his pent-up anger to destroy the monsters. Other times, he willed them into oblivion in a sheer move of desperation, their entire bodies exploding in a shower of blood and flesh.

As the last creature fell, he continued hacking it, destroying its brittle skull until it was a pile of crushed bone and grey gore. 

When his frustrations finally died, and his anger edged, he realized the forest was falling away.

“I’m not finished!” he shouted into the trees. _“I’m not done!”_

But Naraka had other plans for him.

The trees transformed into arching rock. The red sky no longer bled through the branches. All that remained was the dirt ground. Even the mauled and unsightly carcasses dissolved into thin air. As well, the blood staining his skin disappeared. His double-ended sword turned back to a twisted branch before that, too, vanished.

Placing his weight on his injured leg, he inspected the chewed mess, but was unsurprised to see it healed as if it never happened.

He assessed his surroundings distrustfully.

It was a tunnel of sorts, lightened with a few fire sconces. He stared longingly into the flames, reaching for Agni, but their bond was just as clouded and obscured as his bond with the Cold.

Suddenly, a slow hiss broke the silence.

Ezra turned, spying the shadow cast around the bend of the tunnel. It was an unusual-shaped shadow and it took him a second to identify it as a trident. He was vaguely reminded of the Igni festival where he and Agni teased each other about gifting Varuna a trident. But there was nothing humorous about the trident magnified against the cave walls.

The three prongs curved malevolently—like horns—conveying a quiet sense of power and danger. Accompanying the shadow was a slow, warning hiss of a serpent.

Ezra realized the shadow was not growing larger, but rather growing smaller as the source moved away from him.

He rushed down the corridor and turned around the bend in time to see a man at the far end of the passageway. The figure had his back turned to Ezra, displaying a naked torso of smooth, deeply tanned skin. Something resembling a lungi—but cut just above his knees—outfitted his lower half, displaying his naked legs and bare feet.

His thick hair fell past his shoulders in black, matted locks with half of it gathered atop his head in a knot. He was not overly large, but rather quite lithe with enough muscle definition to indicate a disciplined body. In one hand, he held the source of the shadow Ezra had observed earlier. The trident was entirely gold and just as unnerving—if not more so—than it had been as a looming silhouette.

A hooded serpent unwound partially from the figure’s neck, looking back at Ezra and smelling the air with its tongue.

The man emitted _power_ and ferocity.

He held his breath as the figure turned his head partially, as if acknowledging Ezra’s presence.

With his stomach coiling in anticipation, Ezra stepped forward.

Only, the man disappeared around the bend.

Luring.

While remaining cautious, Ezra chased after him, turning just in time to watch the figure vanish in a wisp of smoke. He seethed. What was Naraka’s angle? But as Ezra refocused forward, he saw the end of the tunnel. It opened up to a larger area, and as he approached the mouth of the tunnel, he could only stare in amazement.

It appeared to be a collapsed city wedged between two walls of rock. As if dropped down from above. It was deserted entirely, if only for the empty sense of desolation emitting from the destroyed buildings.

Moving forward blindly, he stepped into the chamber and stared at the silver stone that stretched as high as he could see. He stopped just at the edge of a cliff, staring down into the dark where the silver stone continued to climb down. The destroyed buildings seemed to emerge from the rock, tethered in place with gnarly trees and vines. Some buildings even collapsed into the center of the rocky valley, stretching across one side of the valley to the other and creating a manmade bridge.

There was a cold fog that emerged from below, hovering amongst the city.

Ezra was immediately on edge.

There were ghosts here, and not in the typical sense.

Imprints of suffering and death remained behind like a blemish. There was a buried part of him—a part that rarely acted up anymore unless around Yamuna—that stirred. There was a sense of familiarity around this place and it came from Yama. It was a restless familiarity. Ezra could almost see Yama in his same position, pacing back and forth relentlessly. 

He had dwelled here often.

Paced. Fretted.

And Ezra immediately realized why.

He could hear them.

The voices of Naraka. It was that same allure that he’d felt when he’d heard them the first time. They spoke to him, beseeched, whispered. Urged him to listen. The tenor was bone chilling enough to seep under his skin. Even more so, he felt entrapped in their insistence, wanting to find the root of their concern and absolve it.

Suddenly, a distant sound of a heavy drum broke the eerie stillness.

A sense of doom and fear spiked as wind howled through the valley.

He took a step backward and his heel caught the edge of the cliff.

Just as he plummeted into the abyss, a pair of arms caught him from behind. A sense of extreme disorientation coursed through him as Agni hovered above him, peering down at him intensely. “Ezra.” He pressed a hand against Ezra’s cheek. “You are here with me.” He lowered himself to the floor, holding Ezra firmly between his arms.

A wall of fire erected around them, shielding them from the figures Ezra caught a brief glance of.

He looked around quickly, his entire body trembling and feeling heavy.

He was back in the throne room.

 _But god,_ he was _back._

A cruel part of him wondered if this was another illusion. What if he was forced to live an illusion for all of eternity?

“Ezra,” Agni called again, firmly this time. “Look at me.”

A steady hand guided his chin around until he was forced to look up at Agni. Ezra slowed his panting, focusing on the hand splaying across his chest and directly over his rapidly beating heart. He was cradled against the Fire God, appreciating the strength Agni conveyed as he grounded and secured Ezra in place. 

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

Agni made a disbelieving sound in his throat, but allowed Ezra to pull away from him.

Ezra touched the cold marble floor with his hand, centering his mind. “It was only an illusion—I…” He inhaled deeply and looked up at Agni, noticing the god watching him curiously. “What?”

“It may not have been an illusion, Ezra.” Agni crouched opposite of him, looking at him almost gently. Ezra found he did not appreciate the placating. “I believe Naraka had your soul.”

He looked down and away from those all-knowing eyes.

He felt nauseated.

But it really didn’t make much of a difference, did it? It was over. Ezra did not doubt Naraka had done it as both a trial and as a learning experience. He found it unlikely he’d go through a similar experience again, but he really didn’t want to analyze it right now. He wanted to go back to Agni’s home. He wanted to stare into the desert and feel warm. Feel nothing but calm.

Just for a few hours.

He finally gathered enough energy to stand.

Agni stood with him and reached over, his fingers barely skimming the underside of Ezra’s chin. “Indra is here, as are some of his warriors. I will make sure they do not dwell.”

Meaning, Agni wanted to know if Ezra could keep face for just a while longer.

“It’s fine.”

Agni stared at him, looking anything but impressed. “Yes. You’re fine. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

That tone promised further, future conversation, and for once, Ezra looked forward to talking with Agni about everything he’d seen and experienced. He wanted Agni’s advice and Agni’s knowledge. He wanted the god’s wisdom on how best to deal with Naraka and manipulate his surroundings easier. He wanted to learn _about_ Naraka.

With one last searching look, Agni dropped the fire.

Ezra immediately spied Indra sitting on the throne. _His_ throne. Momentarily, he wondered whether he should be utterly unfazed or immensely irritated. He found himself falling between the two extremes, far more interested in observing the way Indra lounged indolently with his legs crossed.

Upon seeing he had garnered Ezra’s attention, the King of Gods smiled lazily. “Good to see you have recovered, Reaper. You had us all _very_ concerned.” Indra’s foot bounced restlessly before he stood. “Can we consider this a proper inauguration from Naraka? Has it…approved of your tenancy as Reaper?”

Indra glided exaggeratedly down the dais, as if demonstrating the proper way a monarch should descend his throne.

Ezra could only exhale with disbelief at the god’s absurd dramatics. He held his ground as Indra stopped opposite of him and made a show of looming. The god’s pale gaze tried its best to discern the things Ezra had seen during his trial with Naraka. Unfortunately for Indra, Ezra had no intentions of revealing anything, least of all to the King of Gods.

Instead, he lifted a simple eyebrow. “You could say that.”

“Good,” Indra drawled. “After all, the preparation for your celebration is nearly completed. Queen Shachi would be most disappointed if you were not appointed Reaper.”

“Celebration,” Ezra repeated tonelessly.

Indra’s lips twitched. “Oh yes. Assuming, of course, Agni releases you from his clutches.” Here, Indra finally removed his gaze from Ezra and glanced at Agni, who stood a distance away. “I do hope you aren’t as antisocial as our Fire God,” the king murmured, looking back at Ezra.

“I’d rather take another tour through Naraka than attend a celebration.”

The king laughed courteously, the sound nearly as fake as his smile. “And the same noble attempts at wit as Agni. How cute.” He slowly moved past Ezra, keeping his proud gaze on the younger god. “Regardless of your interests, or lack of interest in celebrating, we can use the time to…meet. There is much you and I need to discuss.”

Ezra turned his own head and maintained eye contact with the departing god. “I look forward to it.”

Indra’s smile dropped and a sly smirk took its place. The blond-haired god then turned and exited the throne room, followed by the group of warriors.

“Gross,” a familiar voice commented. “My skin crawls with the way he looks at you.”

“Now you know how we feel,” a deeper baritone answered. “It’s the same way _you_ look at him.”

“Ezra _does_ seem to attract a specific type of blond…”

Upon the last comment, Ezra whipped his head around so fast, he nearly dislocated this neck. There, standing near the perimeter of the throne room, was Chitragupta and Skanda. But between them—

Ezra moved forward instinctively.

Kai smiled knowingly and moved to meet him. Despite his pallor, he appeared far healthier than he had the last several times Ezra had last seen him. And he was _here._ The one who seemed to know Ezra almost as well as Agni. The one who stood by his side, the one who did not coddle, and the one who did not sugarcoat and censor his words.

Moreover, he was someone Ezra trusted completely.

They clasped each other’s biceps.

And when that was not enough, they finally succumbed to a fierce embrace.

Perhaps it was the stress of the day, or maybe it was finally the relief of seeing his comrade again, but Ezra found himself desperately clutching Kai and wishing he never had to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's time we finally get some answers, no? Next chapter we will finally start receiving some of those answers ;)


	16. A Muffled Cry for Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter. Also, unedited. 😊

  1. **A Muffled Cry for Help**



“…that promotion must have been a kick to the gut.” Kai scoffed bitterly. “Viktor had always wanted to be a part of the royal guard. But to receive it because all the others were deceased?”

Ezra swung his legs around and placed his feet upon the bench. Leaning against the arm of the seat, he drew up his knees and fiddled with his tumbler of whiskey. The bottle—nearly half-empty now—sat on the ground between him and Kai. Next to them, the dancing flames from the firepit enhanced the flawless amber sheen of the liquor.

Ezra had never tasted anything finer.

The breeze was cool. The stars were out again. The crickets were just as boisterous as they were the night before.

It was the calm Ezra had yearned for after his trial with Naraka.

Among the extreme isolation of the desert, Ezra felt safe. He felt safe with _Agni._

Not that he’d ever tell Agni that…

Upon their return to the home, Ezra and Kai had disappeared together. The Fire God hadn’t mentioned anything further about Kai, Chit, or Skanda living elsewhere. Agni was being uncharacteristically generous by allowing them to adjust here first. And there needed to be some adjustments. Ezra still had extreme disorientation. Just two and a half days living in Elisium and he already felt as if he’d been here longer.

Moreover, he was just as clueless, if not more so, than he’d been upon his arrival.

Having everyone in one place not only offered reassurance that they were safe, but it also presented the opportunity to learn from other sources. Because he knew very well that Agni was oftentimes selective of the information he shared with Ezra.

“I didn’t know his thoughts on the matter, but he should have made rank initially,” Ezra said. “It was well deserved. We were all fortunate there were warriors willing to put on the uniform after what had happened at the palace.”

Kai shifted, reclining on his end of the bench and kicking one leg up. “How didn’t you know his thoughts on the matter? Viktor never shuts up, he—” Edlen stopped himself abruptly. His entire countenance shifted back to the same wary, reserved mood he’d demonstrated when they first sat down on the patio. “You were busy. I’d forgotten—”

“Forgotten?” Ezra mused dryly. “Kai, to you, the palace attack happened a little more than a week ago. It’s only normal you don’t know everything that has happened between the attack and my arrival here.”

Edlen looked down at his own tumbler of whiskey. “I have to confess something. Keeping it a secret makes me feel uncomfortable.” A heavy pause settled as he gathered his courage to speak again. “Agni and I looked down on the mortal realm—Agni more so, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see. But I felt like I was invading your privacy.”

It wasn’t entirely surprising.

Ezra figured Agni would keep watch.

He took a sip of his whiskey and made an intrigued sound in his throat. “So…? What did you see that has you all bashful?” He couldn’t recall doing anything that would make Kai this uncomfortable.

Kai frowned. “You’re not upset we were watching?”

He laughed darkly when he realized the cause of Edlen’s concerns. “Since my birth, I was under the constant and unwavering attention of an ancient god with ill intentions—and later lecherous intentions,” he said matter-of-factly. “The concept of ‘privacy’ is one I truly don’t understand and have resigned myself to sharing with others.”

Edlen’s expression curdled. “I don’t understand how you two could end up together—”

“It’s best you don’t try to understand,” Ezra interrupted before lifting his gaze over Kai’s head. 

Inside the warmly lit home, Skanda and Agni were speaking to one another in the kitchen. It was not unusual to catch Agni glancing periodically outside—as if protectively hovering and monitoring. It bothered Ezra that he found it reassuring.

“Ignorance is bliss and all that?”

“Precisely.”

Kai exhaled as if a weight had been lifted. “I still don’t feel as if I’m living a reality. Everything happened so suddenly.”

Ezra’s mood darkened upon Kai’s confession. “I’m sorry Agni put you through this. Becoming a Syphon—”

“Ezra.” Kai turned more fully on the bench. “I would have died that night regardless of whether I was a mortal or half-Syphon. I died protecting Talia. I died protecting my kingdom. I died with honor.” He tapered off, appearing as if he were struggling with an onslaught of emotion. When he continued, his voice was rough. “Sure, the transformation was painful and a bit frightening, but to be honest, what is eternity of peace and eternal paradise when I could be spending it on adventures with you?”

Ezra blinked at the unexpected confession.

Swallowing past the tightening of his throat, he managed a cynical smile. “You act as if I would have granted you passage into heaven, Edlen.”

Kai laughed loudly—relieved, maybe, that Ezra had lightened the conversation. “I was a _model_ human being, Egan. You wouldn’t get a more upstanding soul standing before you.”

“There you go, demonstrating one of your most damning qualities. Vanity and arrogance. Moreover, you often experienced a _bit_ too much bloodlust in battle, resulting in overeager kills. Not to mention, your sour personality when I first met you. You were vile.”

“Vile?! You showed up out of nowhere and expected everyone to adhere to your whims. Someone had to ground your own conceited ass.” Kai shook his head. “And if anyone experiences bloodlust, it’s you, Egan. Or…surprisingly Cain.” He looked inquiringly at Ezra. “You wouldn’t damn Cain to punishment for his brutality in battle, would you?”

“Cain was a gentle giant. He deserves eternal peace.”

Truthfully, he didn’t know how judging souls would transpire.

Since Naraka’s more than generous demonstration, he had a better understanding, and yet he didn’t know how Yama judged by a mere glance alone. Chitragupta had the bird—Ezra’s shadow—whatever that had been—as guidance as he recorded Ezra’s past deeds. There were previous occasions Ezra had seen the memories and life choices of mortals, but that was in close proximity while he’d ended their lives.

Were the runes on the ground and chandelier meant to imitate that same ability but at a longer distance?

“Which one is he?”

Ezra was brought back to the present as Kai reached for his mourning braids.

“Red.” He held up his wrist, allowing Kai to take hold of his hand and study the braids. “Red because he was the heart of the team. You are gold.” He watched the conflicting emotions across Kai’s face. “The adhesive holding the team together.”

Kai’s fingers tightened around Ezra’s gloved hand as he considered the array of other braids. “And the amethyst? The multicolored?”

“Cyra is the multicolored. I am the amethyst.”

Kai looked up slowly, revealing eyes that mirrored Ezra’s own. “I saw her. Cyra.” He released Ezra’s hand. “In Naraka after the—after our deaths. She was with Adeen.” His gaze suddenly turned distant. “We were all drawn to this white fire…like a moth to flame. It was soothing. Warm. It left us all in a daze as we submerged in the water. It was a content feeling, Ezra. Cyra will be okay until you can reach her.”

Ezra nodded once.

It was the only thing he could do—say.

To distract himself from remembering the swarming mass of lost souls, he glanced back into the house. Agni and Skanda seemed deep in conversation, and Chitragupta’s absence was painfully evident. The Syphon had been scarce since their return.

Ezra frowned as he looked down and played with the decorative depressions of the tumbler. 

Something had to be done about that.

“To be honest, Egan, this isn’t doing anything for me.”

Edlen waved his tumbler of whiskey in the air between them, the amber liquid nearly sloshing over the brim of the glass. Resisting the temptation to protectively cradle the whiskey before it could drip, Ezra watched skeptically—albeit sternly—as Edlen regained control over the tumbler and brought it back to his side.

“We do not drink for the effects, but rather for the taste,” Ezra lectured.

That earned him a look of contempt. “Keep telling yourself that, Egan.”

Under Ezra’s close scrutiny, Edlen’s monochrome form placed his feet sturdily on the ground and hunched forward. Grey eyes stared blankly into the flames, the flickering light shyly touching across his features and accentuating the ice-like firmness to his skin. His pale lips parted as he brought up the glass again, determinedly taking a large swig.

“It doesn’t feel the same for me either,” Ezra said despondently. “I think my Essence is breaking it down before it can do much good.”

“Then what’s my excuse?”

Ezra suddenly leaned forward. With one hand clutching his drink, the other curled around Kai’s wrist. He pressed his fingers into the cold, hard flesh. “Chitragupta told me gods reborn as Syphons were not necessarily dead embodiments of their previous selves, but rather a new creature, born into something indestructible. You have a beating heart, but it is slow and it perhaps does not carry the same function as it once did.”

Underneath Ezra’s fingers, he could not feel the pulse.

Kai watched Ezra’s ministrations before looking up at him. “So, the heart can stop and—”

“No. Syphons cannot die. Cannot be destroyed.”

_Except for Ember._

“Surely if one is beheaded—”

“From what Chit explained, if something managed to behead you, you’ll become one with the shadows and be reformed again when you turn tangible.”

“That’s all? Any wounds—any loss of limb—will be solved when I merge with the shadows?”

Ezra removed his hand, suddenly aware he’d been cupping Edlen’s cold wrist. “It’s difficult to stab a Syphon and wound it, with your body being as cold and as solid as it is. But Tvastr—the God of Weaponry—has created weapons that efficiently wound Syphons. I don’t believe it’s quite as easy healing from those as it is from ordinary afflictions.”

“Avoid those then.”

Scoffing, Ezra moved back to his side of the bench. “You are a creature of darkness. It’s probably best to avoid anything _glowing_.”

“And what of you? You’re half-Syphon—”

“The weapons affect me as well, just not to the same extent as a full Syphon.” And his body was always cold. His pulse did not race quite like it used to. And of course, there was always that hollow thud of hunger that was never sated. Ezra imagined, because he had a thrumming, full Essence, that it warded off much of the Syphon traits and his deity qualities were more prevalent.

“For what it’s worth, I feel better than I ever have.” Kai looked down at his curled fist, his pale hair falling forward and veiling his expression. “I feel strong. I have no aches. No soreness. I don’t even have to breathe properly. I’m not even affected by the heat or cold. I don’t have any ah—well—no bodily functions that require a use of a lavatory.”

Here, Ezra smirked widely.

“But aside from all that, there is this power I’m not familiar with. Not only physical strength, but something of a _high._ Something foreign that makes me almost giddy with power lust.”

Ezra had remembered feeling that same high when he’d first entered Elisium. Not when he was reborn here—though he’d felt it then too—but when he’d followed Dhumavati through the torn veil. That power, that sensation…it had been…awe-inspiring. So different from the heaviness and resistance of being in the mortal realm.

“And hunger?” he inquired knowingly.

Kai’s broad shoulders slumped marginally. “I am hungry and you know what for. But strangely enough, the hunger isn’t as sharp and consuming as it was when I was transforming. Chitragupta told me Naraka seems to have a mellowing effect on a Syphon’s hunger.”

“Well. That’s one positive to Naraka,” Ezra mumbled bitterly.

Apparently, from what Ezra was told, Chitragupta and Skanda had stumbled across Kai on the third level of Naraka—outside the wards. The summoning had worked properly, as Kai had been pulled from the wards keeping the Syphons and daemons trapped. Only, Naraka had prevented him from leaving the underworld completely and had deposited him elsewhere in order to draw Ezra into its fold.

“I can see the Essences around me, and _Agni’s_ Essence…” Kai trailed off, glancing inside the house where Skanda and Agni were having a heated conversation. “You can tell it’s developed—older. _Powerful_ and fulfilling. I don’t know how Skanda can stay so close.”

Unnerved with the predatory look Kai leveled Agni, Ezra cleared his throat. “It sounds as if you will adjust to being a Syphon. Though, don’t be too sure about the use of a lavatory,” Ezra mused coyly. Kai’s head swung around quickly, looking at him in dismay. Ezra hid his smirk by taking a sip of whiskey. “I mean…” he drawled into his glass. “If you do not have an Essence to digest what you’ve just drank…where does it go?”

“ _Varuna_ ,” Kai cursed. “Should I not have drank this?”

Ezra lifted a shoulder. “If there is one thing sloshing around in my stomach for eternity, I would gladly it be whiskey.”

Kai chuckled, his earlier interest in Agni entirely diverted. He toasted to Ezra before taking another sip. “Ezra…” the Syphon started again, this time as hesitant as he’d been before confessing to his voyeurism. “Have you ever heard of the name ‘Rudra’?”

“Not you too,” Ezra groused into his glass.

Kai's gaze was nearly fascinated as he observed Ezra. “Well? Have you?”

“I’ve…heard of him…” He exhaled forcibly into his glass, sending ripples across the amber liquid. “A great, ancient, infamous, and very impressive god who seemed to excel at everything. He’s been several hundred years deceased, yet apparently so much of a legend, that gods still talk about him. That Rudra, yes?” He focused keenly on Kai. “How have _you_ heard of him?”

“Well I didn’t know all _that_ ,” Kai argued. He glanced inside, where Skanda and Agni seemed to have settled their earlier dispute. “But—well—Agni took me to Yamuna after my death in hopes to merge Chit’s old Essence with me. While we were there, he and Yamuna were arguing about Rudra. And about you.”

Agni pushed off from the counter, walking away from both his full glass of wine and a bemused Skanda, before heading toward the patio.

Ezra looked suspiciously at the firepit.

_That man… honestly._

“And?” he inquired. “What were they arguing about?”

“You look so different, Ezra.” Kai offered a twisted smile. “You look so—”

Ezra pressed his lips together and quirked an expectant brow.

Kai rolled his eyes. “You always have to outdo everyone, Egan. Even these—incredibly beautiful people here—”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful, Edlen,” he teased, more so to stop Kai from revealing anything further with Agni’s proximity. “It appears as if you have some competition, Agni.” This earned Kai’s stiff alarm as he turned around and searched for the Fire God who’d snuck up behind them. “I have to say, when it comes to overall character attributes, Kai has you beat.”

Shroud in shadow, Agni prowled behind the two, paying special attention to Kai.

Agni’s stare was not at all reassuring, if anything, it conveyed ominous warning. Ezra admired the god in all his evasiveness as he came to a stop behind the bench. When those red-orange eyes struck the right amount of intimidation in Kai, they finally lowered to Ezra. The hard unkindness in those eyes melted gradually into something akin to dark admiration.

“What is one more in a long line of eager suitors?” he inquired, entirely unphased with Ezra’ comment about inferior character attributes.

He then leaned down, his proximity causing Ezra’s stomach to jerk delightfully.

He couldn’t even be mad at the god for eavesdropping, not when he was so amused by the predictability.

Agni’s nose traced Ezra’s sharp jawline, near his ear. “Let’s go to the bedroom. I grow tired waiting.”

Ezra tried to conceal his indulgent smile as he turned and looked at Agni. “I don’t think that’s really fair to Skanda.” He sipped his whiskey, forcing Agni back a few inches. “He’s either a poor conversationalist, your full glass of wine has offended you in some way, or you were eavesdropping on our conversation and wanted to intervene before Kai could tell me something.” 

Kai stiffened even further, looking into the flames with sudden realization.

“Or,” Agni murmured, “I just want to touch you without the observation of others.”

At that, Kai stood up quickly. He mumbled something about Skanda before disappearing inside the home. Ezra watched as Edlen eagerly dove into Skanda’s orbit, acting as if the other Syphon’s presence could erase what he’d just overheard.

Agni took the tumbler of whiskey from Ezra’s hand. “Come. You need to get some rest.”

“Rest?” He grimaced. “Have you come to put the newborn to bed? What about the ‘touching’ you claimed you didn’t want the others to see?” Fingers raked enthusiastically through his hair before curling around the roots. As the hand pulled at his scalp, Ezra was forced to roll off the bench. He swooped down to grab the bottle of whiskey from the ground before standing at Agni’s insistence.

“There will be ample amounts of touching. And rest.” Agni suddenly clicked his tongue with extreme disapproval. “Stop—” He sighed with exasperation and pried the whiskey bottle from Ezra’s determined hands. “You will not need this.”

“I thought gods did not need sleep.”

Agni placed down the bottle and escorted Ezra off the patio. “So you are determined to fill your time with drinking instead? Are you not tired?”

He was exhausted.

His silence was enough of a confirmation for Agni, who smirked knowingly and guided him around the sprawling perimeter of the house. They passed through several open porches and courtyards before finding their way into familiar territory.

Throughout their walk, patterned lanterns hung suspended from ceilings or claimed the stone pavers, creating enough of a lulling and warm glow to put Ezra at ease and acknowledge the wariness in his bones. When Agni opened the door to their bedroom, flames lit the small candles leading to the bed, an inviting and irresistible allure.

Before Ezra could walk the short antechamber that led into the main bedroom chamber, a hand curled around his shoulder and stopped him. He looked up questionably as Agni maneuvered him until his shoulder blades hit the wall.

“We must meet a concession about _those._ ”

In the candlelit hall, Ezra just barely made out Agni’s extended finger. It was pointing at— “Do you really find my boots that distasteful?” he demanded. “They serve a good purpose.”

“Regardless of their purpose, they are a cover and an illusion to someone you wish to portray to the public. When we are in our home, I would like for you to drop all pretenses and guises. I want you stripped bare.” He looked at Ezra’s stubborn expression. “But because the house is currently overrun with invasive, unwelcome guests—”

“You are talking about your own son—”

“Then we will have to confine our agreement to the bedroom. For now.”

Ezra exhaled lowly. “The same applies to you?”

The god’s expression was impressively malevolent. “Do you believe I care enough about public opinion to wear a guise?”

Agni was always so difficult…and Ezra enjoyed it immensely.

“A simple ‘yes, my love, my _charu,_ my child’ would have sufficed.” He bent down to unlace his boots. “If I step on any sort of invasive, mysteriously new desert insect without proper foot protection, the boots are remaining on for eternity, and you only have yourself to blame.”

Just as his fingers brushed the laces of the boots, a hand curled around his shoulder and straightened him back against the wall. Strong hands then grabbed the back of his legs and lifted him.

Ezra released a quiet breath of intrigue as his legs wrapped around Agni’s waist.

The Fire God moved assertively between Ezra’s legs and pressed his back against the wall. “Then we’ll have to make sure your feet don’t touch the ground until you can find your sandals, won’t we?”

_Oh god, the sandals._

Keeping Ezra properly hostage, Agni’s firm hand ran down the length of his leg before finding the laces of his boot. He began unlacing them before tugging the boot promptly from his foot and tossing it aside with little consideration. Agni then faced back forward, catching Ezra watching him with fond amusement.

“You’re unbelievable,” Ezra said quietly.

In answer, Agni palmed his thigh before sliding a firm hand down his leg to the remaining boot. He loosened the laces, all the while, keeping firm eye contact with Ezra.

Whenever there was a candle or flame nearby—no matter its dull or bright intensity—it reflected in Agni’s eyes. Colors ranging from yellow to orange to red smoldered in that stare, striking a sinfully exhilarating sensation in Ezra’s lower stomach. Those eyes were not pretty, but beautiful in their unnerving power and mischief.

When the last boot dropped from Ezra’s foot, Agni pulled him away from the wall and supported his weight with ease.

The pulse that no longer raced as easily as it once had, beat profoundly against Ezra’s ribs as he adjusted his legs more firmly around Agni’s waist. He shifted upward, all but climbing up the solid and warm body. His perch was unfamiliar as _he_ was the one to finally look down on Agni.

The idea of being carried had never appealed to Ezra before. It always left a sour taste in his mouth to be so reliant and vulnerable to another, to engage in something so cliché and nauseatingly romantic.

While there _was_ an element of vulnerability, Ezra could not deny the prevailing feelings of dominance and sensuality as he hovered above Agni. It did not matter if his feet were not touching and were rather digging possessively into Agni. What mattered was the reverent way Agni gazed up at him. What mattered were the incredibly large and strong hands cupping him and raising him up.

As intriguing as it was to envision a proper fuck in this position, Ezra’s mood was far too fatigued and—

He just felt off.

A slow, crooked smile appeared across Agni’s mouth as he observed Ezra. “You’re very tired.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“To others? No.” The Fire God adjusted his hold. “But to me, it’s painfully evident.”

As close as he was with Chitragupta and Kai, he still felt as if he needed to shroud himself in the role of a leader—a protector. With Agni, he felt as if he were in the presence of someone he did not have to protect, someone he knew could take care of himself and fight his own battles.

Moreover, Agni saw through every little defense Ezra constructed. He did not need to waste the energy contriving a robust façade. However, the pressure to appear capable was still there. And Ezra was thankful for that. It was always a delightful challenge being in Agni’s presence, no matter how much he could be himself. 

Ezra splayed a palm against Agni’s cheek, admiring the ridges of his cheekbone and the sharp cut of the jawline. But god, Agni was handsome. His thumb moved out to capture Agni’s bottom lip, tracing the outline deliberately. Meanwhile, Agni remained passive and entirely docile to Ezra’s explorations.

“You’re not going to want to talk about what happened, are you?”

Agni’s eyes lightened. “Don’t you want to share what happened?”

Ezra held his thumb over Agni’s bottom lip. “There are a lot of things I saw. The most pressing concern…” he trailed off, intentionally creating the tension. “Was that I saw other men wearing the same skirt you had in your wardrobe.”

Something rumbled in Agni’s chest.

It took Ezra a second to identify it as a chuckle.

He playfully bit Ezra’s thumb.

“It is a _lungi_ ,” he emphasized just as Ezra knew he would. He began walking down the short hallway and toward the bed. “That is the only thing that you thought prevalent to mention?”

They finally arrived inside the circular bedchambers. Ezra looked up, admiring the rope lighting that encircled the dome ceiling. The moon-like illusion radiated a gentle glow, immediately putting Ezra further at ease. Across the room, the sheer draperies were gently billowing against the cool breeze. White desert sand spilled into the room, glittering madly from the dim candlelight of the bedroom.

Agni held him—suspended—over sheets of navy-blue silk.

They’d been changed since last night, and Ezra dimly wondered who’d been responsible for the housekeeping.

“There were also glowing worms. Grubs.”

Agni stared at him, unimpressed, before dropping him abruptly onto the bed. “You are impossible at times, child.” He then began unbuttoning Ezra’s trousers and pulled them swiftly from his hips. “Those ‘grubs’ are essential for lighting the third level of Naraka. _Pitrloka_ is Naraka’s capital, and where the God of Death delivers justice.”

“Pitrloka…”

Agni nodded once. “Though others call it _Pretarajapura_.”

Ezra blanched as he absorbed the foreign word. “Pre—pretarajapura,” he repeated with some difficulty under Agni’s stern and demanding eye. Briefly, Ezra wondered if that was what the stone sign had said just before Yama’s palace.

“Pretarajapura,” Agni reiterated again, more slowly and deliberately. “Meaning, city of the king of ghosts.”

“Sanskrit is a difficult language.”

“You’ve never had to learn a new language. It will be beneficial for you to challenge yourself. Soon, you will become fluent in Sanskrit.”

Ezra slapped away Agni’s hands as the god made a move to remove his undershirt. “Are you tucking me in before returning to your glass of wine and adult conversation for the evening?” he inquired as he stripped effortlessly from the shirt.

The Azeri ring caught on the shirt before he detangled the chain. Tossing the shirt aside, the cold metal of the ring hit his chest as he fell back onto the mattress.

Agni stared lustfully down at Ezra as the younger god made himself more comfortable against the pillows. “Why ever would I do that?” Agni slowly began to disrobe, removing his own shirt and revealing the defined torso underneath. “I would be completely distracted knowing such a delectable morsel was in my bed, entirely alone and neglected.”

With that, Agni shed his pants and Ezra admired the view presented before him. It was a shame Agni had on his briefs, for Ezra would have enjoyed seeing the god entirely nude. Agni’s body had proper definition, but not overly so. The muscles were evident, the shoulders broad, but what really drove Ezra’s excitement was the strong hands and forearms.

Agni leaned forward on the mattress, bracing his arms on either side of Ezra and drawing attention to the strength of his upper body. The way he dwarfed Ezra in size presented an intimidatingly—and exhilaratingly—masculine presence.

As Agni loomed over him, Ezra felt a stirring that he hadn’t thought possible after today’s events.

He reclined against the pillows, smugly returning Agni’s observation. Lifting his head marginally, he lightly traced his lips across the corner of Agni’s mouth. As the Fire God swooped low to kiss him, Ezra coyly turned his shoulder and shifted on to his side.

“As you’ve lectured many times tonight, it is time for bed.”

Agni remained above Ezra, bridging his arms on either side of him. “I don’t recall you ever being so obedient before.”

He smirked into his pillow. Laying on his side, and allowing the comfortable mattress to cradle him, brought forth a new level of exhaustion. The god above him seemed to sense his diminishing energy, for he laid down behind Ezra. An arm wrapped around his waist and brought his back flush against a firm and warm chest.

Nearly being absorbed by Agni’s secure hold, Ezra allowed his smirk to turn into a genuine smile, confident Agni wouldn’t see. He stared out into the open patio door as the lanterns across the room dimmed considerably before extinguishing.

“What does Raya mean?”

Agni was silent for quite some time. He placed his chin upon Ezra’s shoulder and made an intrigued noise in his chest. “It is a name—a masculine name. It carries with it an esteemed status.”

“How so?”

“There are many names in Sanskrit that could mean ‘king’ or ‘prince’, but it is not meant to be so literal. They are usually names of major deities who show great promise. ‘Skanda’ is another name that could mean ‘king’ or ‘prince’.”

“Deities are born knowing their names, aren’t they?” Ezra glanced at Agni from over his shoulder. “Why did you give Kartikeya a second name?”

“I was always fond of the mortals’ tradition of naming their own children. It established a bond between a parent and their child—a more intimate connection. Oftentimes, those names carried deep meanings. I wanted to be a part of Kartikeya’s namesake, so I gave him a second name when he was a fledgling. It was just a name between the two of us, for his first name was well-known to all of Elisium.”

Ezra rarely witnessed Agni’s more expressive side. It was painfully evident how much he adored his son.

“And Skanda means prince and king?”

“Among other things. It means clever or learned, it means attacker, it means destruction. It is a strong name that I grew fond of.” He angled his head marginally and his lips skimmed lightly across Ezra’s shoulder. “I must confess, I did not anticipate you would name your son Mikhail. I had believed Micah to be an identity you were eager to shed, not pass on.”

Ezra wallowed in a deep, gut-wrenching depression.

The name _Mikhail_ carried an intimacy when spoken by another. What was once a single name written in ink among a long list of Brooke’s preferences, had now taken shape. Agni speaking it aloud was only cementing the identity of the unborn son Ezra had left behind. It made him yearn, yearn for something he could—would—never have.

“No,” Ezra replied quietly. “It was a name my mother loved, and one I shed because it no longer applied to me.” He stared stubbornly into the white desert to compose himself. “Micah was human. He had his faults, but he was hopefully naïve that he could better his kingdom. His hardships made him strong, yet he was still empathetic and he loved his people.”

“That portrayal still very much applies to you, child, just as it will your son,” Agni murmured fondly into his ear. “You are still empathetic, you still love your people, and you have a remarkable desire that you can better your kingdom. Only, your kingdom no longer borders the Concordia territory, but rather the realm of the dead.”

Ezra closed his eyes. “Yes. You’re right.”

Never mind that there was so much to discover and fix in Naraka. Never mind that without Naraka’s cooperation, they would have trouble standing opposite of gods like Indra.

“You must truly be tired to acknowledge when I’m right,” Agni mused.

They laid together in silence, the only sound being the crickets and katydids. Between the cool silk sheets, the brisk breeze, and Agni’s warm body, Ezra found himself nodding off.

“Raya.”

Ezra opened his eyes drowsily.

“Means vehemence, swiftness, and ardor. It means stream of a river and quick motion.” The arms tightened around him. “Perhaps it is best suited for someone who flows swiftly against routine expectations with equal parts vehemence and ardor. It is an attractive name and it is not mortal. Where did you hear it?”

But Ezra was already asleep.

*** * * ***

When he woke up the next morning, he could sense the shift of ambience.

It was in the heaviness of the air. It was in the way Agni carried himself. 

As the Fire God pulled Ezra from bed, he did not demonstrate any of the fond playfulness from the night before, but rather conveyed an impassive and authoritative quietness. He handed Ezra a robe similar to the one he donned yesterday after the bath, before ushering him out the patio doors of their bedroom.

As Ezra’s bare feet hit the white sand, he was surprised at its warmth. Despite the early hour, the sun had quickly warmed its surroundings, which were normally quite cool at night. 

His sleepiness clung to him like glue as he blearily peered around. “I don’t see a remarkable sunrise worth waking up for,” Ezra remarked with a glance toward the blue skies. “So why did you pull me from a deep sleep?”

He found and claimed a bench situated just outside their bedroom. He was tired, a bit moody, and disorientated.

It didn’t spell well for whatever conversation Agni was so persistent on having. And if Ezra had to guess, it was regarding the revelation Kai was going to share with him last night. Agni evidently found himself out of time and could no longer drag his feet.

“You’ve been sleeping for five hours. That is enough time.”

Ezra’s stare sharpened as he focused on Agni. “Are you monitoring my sleep now?” he asked icily. “Is five hours too much for you?”

Agni deliberately dropped Ezra’s sandals near his feet before claiming a seat on the opposite bench. “I am monitoring your sleep, yes.” He offered Ezra a blasé look. “Sleep often impairs the development of the Essence. A strong Essence is vital to ward off illnesses, and it is also responsible for the quick healing and resilience of gods. The physician that tended to you has indicated that you have a staggering number of sleep deposits in your Essence.”

Ezra’s foggy mind took several seconds to process the words. “Meaning?”

“Meaning…” Agni leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “Since your birth, your sleeping habits have been unhealthy and your Essence is tremendously underdeveloped. We need to wean you off sleep in order to strengthen it.”

“Since my birth?” Ezra repeated curiously. “The birth twenty-two years ago? Or the rebirth just several weeks ago?”

Agni’s expression was almost frightening in its blankness. “It was difficult to determine the best way to tell you this. These past several weeks—months—haven’t treated you well.”

“Stop sugarcoating it,” Ezra demanded quietly. “That is not like you. Or me. Just say it.”

Was this some sort of health condition? According to Chit, gods were nearly indestructible. The only thing harder to kill were Syphons. What if he were damned with another vulnerability like his mortal self’s immunity to Elemental healing? Was his Essence permanently damaged? Would he always be sickly and weak?

At the thought, Ezra nearly recoiled with disgust.

“You are not a newborn in the traditional sense of the word. Ashvin—your physician—estimates you were born several hundred years ago.” Agni paused. “The circumstances surrounding your deity birth evidently required you to be put to sleep for several centuries, hence the underdeveloped Essence. Newborns should not sleep in any capacity for the first several decades of their existence.”

Ezra reclined further against the bench and tightened the black robe across his chest.

Through the disbelief and shock, he tried to conceive a reasonable explanation.

“It could be Yama’s Essence,” he reasoned as his mind raced. “The physician doesn’t know Yamuna used a portion of Yama’s Essence to create me. He had to be several hundred years old at the time of his death.” He submerged his feet deeper into the white sand. “It likely awakened when I was reborn into the Reaper.”

“A sound assumption.”

Despite Agni’s lackluster praise, Ezra recognized it was not the correct conclusion.

He shook his head and looked north where the endless white sands turned into red, rocky terrain. 

Agni pressed on, undaunted. “Your start did not begin when Calder and Ember conceived you. Rather, it appears as if you were conceived by a god many centuries ago.”

_By a god._

Ezra shook his head again to fend off the nausea. He kept his attention fixed on the distance. “That’s—you’re suggesting Indra was correct.” As ludicrous as the king’s conclusion was at the time, Ezra couldn’t help but acknowledge that it explained a great deal of things. Mainly, his change of appearance. “Brahma conceived you and the others by himself. How many gods can produce offspring without the aid of a female counterpart?”

“Just Brahma,” Agni confirmed. “But his brothers are known to do especially impressive feats.” A pause. A heavy-handed clue as to who he believed Ezra’s sire to be. “However, it is becoming more likely that your sire did unite with a goddess to produce you. There are many unknowns to this new discovery. I would have preferred knowing the whole story before telling you.”

Slowly, Ezra turned away from the canyons and settled Agni with a cautionary stare. From the way Agni spoke, from the words he chose, he—

“You didn’t know.”

Agni—the god that was all-knowing and behind every single revelation in Ezra’s life— _hadn’t known._

“I was ignorant. I assumed Yama’s Essence was implanted in your own Essence, and then joined by the soul created from the union between Ember and Calder Talise.” He read the question in Ezra’s gaze. “But my suspicions started when you conjured the wolf to fend off Yama. And again, a wolf was present during your rebirth in Elisium. A wolf has not been seen or heard from since…”

He trailed off, peering closely at Ezra as if determining whether he was truly capable of hearing the truth.

Ezra nearly scoffed with offense. “Since…?” He picked up where Agni left off. “Since Rudra?”

It was not hard to deduce.

The wolf had been a constant in his life these past several months. And he knew Rudra’s spirit animal had been the wolf. Naraka must have known about Rudra as well—which is why it insisted on taking on the wolf form. It was the underworld’s way of trying to tell him something.

“You believe he was my father—or— _sire_ as you called it.”

It was easier to use the word ‘sire’. The term ‘father’ was already reserved by Calder.

“It says so in your appearance. It says so on the back of your arm.”

Ezra cringed as the events of the past few days surged to the surface. “You…what does it say, exactly?” He curled a hand directly over the tattoo on his arm. “It’s in Sanskrit. I saw a similar scripture in Naraka. They were squiggly but precise symbols.”

“You saw a similar _language_ ,” Agni lectured. “The tattoo says, ‘son of Rudra’. It is unusual. Normally, one does not have such a brand—”

“You grew aroused when you saw it,” Ezra called out suspiciously as he remembered the way Agni’s movements had gone nearly frenzied with excitement. “When you saw the tattoo on the back of my arm. You knew what it said.”

Red-orange eyes remained steadfast. “It was an unexpected discovery when I was nearing completion. Anything depraved would have sent me over the edge.” He looked unabashedly at Ezra, as if daring him to push the topic.

And Ezra was glad to. “Rudra was your uncle.” He then recalled Agni’s comment on the train, about being close to his cousin, and nearly rolled his eyes. “That means you’re my cousin. And that excites you.”

“Ezra.”

“Either you’re excited over the fact we’re blood-related, or that I’m a part of Rudra—who happens to be your idol.” Ezra narrowed his eyes. “You didn't harbor any feelings for him, did you?”

Agni’s lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes raged. “He was like a father to me.”

Ezra could have pushed it further. A part of him wanted to, if only to see just how much he could test Agni. However, with one look at Agni’s clenched, white knuckles, Ezra sensed the edge of the god’s patience. Agni was furious, and it was evident he was furious at Ezra for focusing on issues that were not the main concern.

They sat in silence for quite some time.

Ezra reclined on the bench, enduring Agni’s obsessive regard. His mind was nearly blank. He didn’t know if it was shock, disgust, or anger over the situation that kept him from dwelling over the revelation. _Rudra._ It meant little to him. He did not know the man—the god. Rudra was like a fictional character that fledglings learned about in Elisium the same way mortal children learned about past war legends and royalty in Concordia.

But Agni was here. Agni was real. And Agni was related to him by blood.

The anger gradually bled from Agni’s countenance and pensive consideration took its place. “You are not reacting how I imagined.”

“No. I’m not reacting how _you_ would have reacted,” Ezra corrected calmly. “I’m still trying to determine how I feel that you’re my cousin.”

The older god unclasped his hands and sat at attention. “It wasn’t as if we were raised together, Ezra,” he chastised.

Ezra scoffed at both the imagery and the god’s poor attempt at excusing their incest. “It doesn’t change the fact that we’re related—a relation far closer than what I’m comfortable with.”

The unpromising aura secreting from Agni was enough to force Ezra to straighten from his reclined position. Cautiously, he watched as Agni stood and crossed the short distance to his bench. The god sat directly next to him and pressed their legs together. A heavy hand then splayed the area between Ezra’s shoulder blades before moving gradually up his back.

Strong fingers curled around the back of Ezra’s neck, shackling and tightening.

Ezra’s head was maneuvered until their brow lines touched. He stared in rapt fascination at the red staining Agni’s eyes, knowing now that it was the same hue reflected in his own eyes. Not just by coincidence, but because of blood ties. He hated himself when his stomach coiled with tight, sick pleasure. He was feeling Agni’s arousal. It _had_ to be _Agni’s_ arousal.

Not his own.

“Would you end things merely because of our relation?” Agni murmured.

Ezra’s jaw tightened. “If you had known about this before pursuing our relationship, Agni, I would have no qualms ending things,” he replied decisively. It wouldn’t have mattered if Agni was his only guidance in Elisium. Ezra wouldn’t have stood for such twisted and sick deception. “But you claimed yourself ignorant…”

“It is not something I confess often, but yes, I was ignorant.” Agni pressed Ezra closer, his hand tightening further. “Nonetheless, I must admit, I wouldn’t have been deterred if I had known. Cousins are far too apart to have impacted my interest.”

He was reminded of what Indra had said upon their first meeting. How incest was not unheard of in the god realm, simply from the sheer number of related sires. It was not something Ezra would _ever_ normalize—having been raised in the mortal realm where it was frowned upon—but it was something he would endure. Only for Agni.

“Would Rudra have accepted our relationship?” Ezra asked derisively, if only to see Agni’s reaction.

Agni actually stilled at the inquiry. “No,” he murmured, “I don’t believe he would have.”

Ezra pulled away from the hand and looked properly at Agni. “Pity. Being cousins wouldn’t dissuade you, but Rudra’s disapproval would send you running.”

Agni chuckled quietly. “Little one,” he started fondly, but with enough patronizing to set Ezra’s teeth on edge. “There is much you need to learn about your sire. Rudra is impressively fearsome with unheard of power and unpredictability.” He observed Ezra’s stony expression. “Rest assured, regardless of his opinion, I’d still enjoy the challenge in pursuing you. Claiming you.”

Ezra hummed deep in his throat, unimpressed and unmoved.

Agni watched him like he always did—with that particular rapt fascination. “You haven’t commented on him being your father. It is a great honor to be a child of the Trimurti. Rudra, especially, was a remarkable god.”

“I don’t care,” Ezra said bluntly.

The Fire God’s expression froze. “You have no thoughts once so ever about this revelation? Aside from our own blood ties?”

Ezra pressed his lips together and offered a casual shrug. “How this impacted _us_ was all I cared about. Rudra is dead. Calder is my father. I have no _time_ to sort through new revelations. Not when I need to discover more about Naraka.” He looked above Agni’s head, toward the distant canyons. “I still need to visit the mortal realm. I need to find out how to veil my presence so I can visit my family and loved ones. I still need to observe Indra, find out his ticks. I still need to recover from what Naraka threw at me.”

Agni’s expression was torn between frustration and amusement. “Ezra…” he trailed off faintly.

“I don’t _care,_ ” Ezra repeated again. “I really don’t care who my father is. Some people are not meant to understand, nor experience the concept of _family_.” The way he spat the word indicated that perhaps he wasn’t as indifferent as he liked to boast. 

He thought of grassy hills adorned with picnic baskets of fine cognac, and sunlit ponds filled with zealously feeding ducklings. 

Her distant laugh was enough to send him to his feet. He preoccupied himself with shoving his feet into the sandals, stewing all the while. Agni’s stare was like a heavy weight and Ezra knew the god was observing everything, soaking up his reactions and words like a sponge—if only to use it and analyze it for later.

“Ezra.”

Something in Ezra shook loose.

“I’m so _tired_!”

His exclamation seemed to reverberate across the isolated desert.

And it felt immensely good to finally raise his voice.

The Cold entwined around his feet, prepared and anxious to attack. Meanwhile, the immediate area dropped several degrees, becoming cold enough to turn Agni’s and Ezra’s breath visible. Ezra inhaled deeply to calm his rage, attempting to will the Cold away, but feeling it remain stubbornly close.

“I’m tired,” Ezra repeated, this time calmly as a few snowflakes fell onto his shoulder. “I’m tired of hearing new revelations that have the potential to shift everything I’m familiar with. I haven’t even found my balance as Reaper yet. There are many obstacles I need to climb over as the God of Death and Justice. Not only obstacles from Elisium and her king, but from my own realm. Things are…”

He trailed off as he struggled to find a word better suited than—

“ _Fucked up_ in Naraka,” he finished without pause. “Why should mortal souls be judged so harshly when gods commit the same acts and live happily for eternity? Why are the punishments in Naraka so brutal? So painful and frightening?”

His breath hitched.

He tried to fend off the memories that accompanied Naraka’s punishment and focus on the here and now.

Nothing discernible was on Agni’s face as he gave Ezra his full attention.

Therefore, Ezra continued without reservations.

“The soul is a living thing. It is constantly shifting to adapt to its surroundings. Surroundings filled with nothing but torment breed nothing but flawed and strong souls. Flawed souls are then proclaimed tainted and dirtied with sin. Souls dirtied with sin are not good enough to get the rest they deserve after a weary lifetime of suffering. They are subjected to endless loops of punishments under the guise of cleansing their souls.”

It was off tangent.

He knew it had nothing to do with Agni’s inquiry about his lack of reaction to his parentage. But in all honesty, it was along the same vein. Agni didn’t think he was reacting appropriately to the news, but how could he when he had so many other things to deal with?

“I have much I want, and need, to accomplish as Reaper,” Ezra said quietly. “The revelation of Rudra being my father indicates a…mess of more complications and mysteries that I don’t even want to consider. Why else would I be forced to sleep for hundreds of years? Why was this hidden? Why was Yamuna hiding it all? I don’t have the energy, the time, nor the interest to look further into this.”

Agni raised a single brow, his expression just as impassive as it had been for the past several minutes. “It is not often you express your frustrations or your feelings.” As much as he tried to hide it from Ezra, there was something in his eyes, a sort of quiet victory. 

And Ezra realized what he’d just done. 

He’d just appealed to Agni for help in his own, indirect way. Agni would have given Ezra his help regardless, but they both acknowledged this was a large step forward.

Agni then placed a hand on the bench next to him.

Ezra hesitated at the suggestion—no—the nonverbal order. Looking at Agni, he immediately noticed the transformation in the god’s proud, serene posture, as well as the way he looked at Ezra. It was not the typical stare full of fond amusement or mocking deviousness, but rather one filled with jadedness and a sense of unparalleled supremacy.

It was rare Ezra caught a glimpse at a tranquil, focused, and ancient Agni.

He moved slowly until he sat next to the Fire God.

Agni did not make a move to touch him. He kept a distance as they both recovered from the emotionally charged vent. The longer the silence stretched, the more ashamed Ezra felt for his outburst.

“You yearn for control,” Agni said. “Which isn’t entirely surprising, considering you have never known control. Your life has always been orchestrated, whether at my hand, Yamuna’s hand, Calder’s hand, or the kingdom’s hand. Now you find yourself the master of a realm who does not give you control of its reins.”

Agni turned and observed Ezra’s stiff form.

“There is a secret to harnessing control, Ezra.”

Ezra kept his eyes on the distant sand dunes, having an inkling where Agni was headed.

“Knowledge, experience, and practice.” 

Ezra glanced at Agni from the corner of his eye. “I feel as if there is too much to learn in such a short amount of time.”

“You will never stop learning. You will get to be my age and realize time always presents you with something new.” Agni’s gaze dropped to the way Ezra cupped and tensed his hands. “As a raised mortal, you have a sense of time limitation. You put pressure on yourself to get things done, and to learn new things, as soon as possible. Instead of correcting this, you and I will take advantage of that burden and get you up to speed.”

Turning back forward, Ezra realized he was more than ready to tackle any lessons Agni planned to put him through. He did not appreciate this ignorance, or the sense of having little control over his surroundings.

“Your life as a mortal taught you how to identify social imbalances,” Agni continued. “It taught you how to create ways to rectify them. Regrettably, your time was cut short before you could implement those changes. But as a god—as master of your own realm—you have the power to implement, change, and enforce.

“You don’t like the way things are done in Naraka? Then you change it. You _are_ Death. You do not follow established footsteps; you are one to blaze your own trail.”

Agni’s words felt like a physical blow. They did not strike him with intentions to harm, but rather with intentions to ground Ezra. He _did_ have the power and the means now. He was no longer a mortal bemoaning about the injustices that would only be fixed through political and economic efforts. 

“But,” Agni continued, “you must accept _all_ knowledge. That includes information about your sire and the circumstances surrounding your birth. Despite your sentiments on the issue, you must realize the importance of knowing the truth. What was threatening your existence back then may still be relevant. Intentional ignorance is a quick way to make yourself foolishly vulnerable.”

“I know,” Ezra conceded.

And he did. He had his fair share of occasions where his intentional ignorance backfired on him. Brushing aside the issue of Rudra was not wise, but something that he’d done out of sentimental instinct.

Agni’s fierce concentration was enough to pull Ezra’s stare away from the desert. “I will help you find control. You only need a light push to step into your role and become a formidable opponent in the god realm.”

There was a promise there. An excitement.

Ezra found himself mirroring Agni’s quiet enthusiasm, recognizing the beginnings of something new between them. Agni had always taken the role as a mentor, but the impression Ezra was getting was something a bit more intimate than a simple mentorship.

He examined the intensity in Agni’s gaze, feeling the god’s anticipation thrum through their bond. “Agni,” he started quietly, “when you woke up from your sleep after Skanda’s death, your purpose wasn’t just to raise the next Reaper and liberate the Syphons. It wasn’t just to find Skanda’s killers to extract your revenge. It’s far more than that, and I assume it has to do with what you saw on Mount Sineru. Just what are your plans for the god realm?”

Distant thunder rumbled across the desert.

Ezra gazed to the north where angry, black clouds swelled high into the sky.

“Like you, my intent is striking that proper balance,” Agni informed dispassionately with a smug look at the lightning storm. “Balance, which has been grossly skewed these past several centuries.” His next words, albeit partly unsurprising, were still uttered with enough chilling confidence to provoke trepidation. “It is time to return the darkness to Elisium.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Final Notes:** As cliche as Agni's last comment was, it couldn't be more literal. There was no way around it. Also, the chapter didn't have all the answers/questions I had intended. So next chapter. I think Ezra needed this final 'talk/push' before moving full speed ahead. Which I'm excited about! 
> 
> Also, I've been entertaining the possibility of doing what I did for Part 3, where I stop updating and post the rest of the chapters all at once when I'm completed. It may be more exciting for the readers instead of repetitive biweekly updates. It is just something I'm considering, and something I wanted to tell you in case I stop updating (I'm sure I'll announce it on Tumblr/LiveJournal if I do decide to go that route).


	17. Life and Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A *HUGE* thank you to Fae/CaramelRaven for looking over this chapter!! Any mistakes are my own ;-)

  1. **Life and Death**



**_Several Centuries Earlier._ **

Hitting the ground hard, the newborn pup tumbled to a dizzying stop. Disorientation clung to him as he heard labored breathing and a pitter-patter of rhythmic dripping. A growl sounded behind him, urging him to scramble onto his paws. He scampered away quickly, his short legs shuffling and hardly creating much distance.

He didn’t dare look behind him.

A sense of malevolence swelled in the air, spurring the tiny form to dash into the trees.

Large paws suddenly struck the ground on either side of him before teeth grabbed the scruff behind his neck. Dangling from the jaws of the much larger predator, he mewled as they sprinted through the trees. Above, birds took flight and the red sky thundered with a frightening awareness.

An inhuman wail of anger and frustration filled the air, spurring them to move quicker.

Darkness suddenly enveloped them as they traveled through the shadows, rippling through space and time. When they emerged from the shadows, the sky was no longer red, and the focused malevolence had dissipated. Despite the seemingly safer environment, the pup could not shake the ominousness still shrouding their surroundings. Everything was still, but strangely watchful. 

The jaws released him and he toppled into the matted and dry grass. Just as he regained his shaky balance, a heavy tongue soothed down the scruff of his neck and knocked him off his feet. 

A rustling sounded just before a figure appeared through the trees. The formidable and secure presence standing above him suddenly disappeared, leaving him a tremoring mess. Ducking low into the grass, his stubby tail twitched agitatedly as he watched the figure approach.

The warning growl thundering through his chest came out as a squeak and did nothing to dissuade the figure’s approach.

Quiet and musical laughter broke through the tension of the woods, clearly finding his attempt at intimidation amusing. His tail thrashed quicker with excitement as the figure crouched opposite of him. “Raya,” the figure greeted fondly, “you’re just as fearsome as your father.” A hand ventured out, plucking him promptly from the ground and bringing him eye level with a beautiful, dark-haired goddess.

“You are safe with me.”

*** * * ***

**_Present Day._ **

When it came to encountering living mortal souls, Ezra had believed the mortal realm would be the only place he’d have to endure that mind-numbing migraine. As it turned out, Yamuna’s realm was just as grating to his senses. Though they were out of sight, Ezra could sense the plethora of radiating and thrumming life sources within the trees.

He turned his attention away from the depths of the forest and toward the two massive willow trees looming before him.

Their gnarly trunks curved toward one another, appearing as if—over time—inosculation had occurred and the two trees had become one. They created a yawning entryway into the forest of other willows, an unguarded yet unnerving passageway for any and all to enter. Their long, weeping branches were silver in color and adorned with closed buds that resembled thorns.

As he examined the pair of willows, he couldn’t help but to think of—

Twins.

Ezra turned to Agni. “Did you tell her we were coming?”

Visiting Yamuna had been Agni’s suggestion. Evidently, Agni had tried to garner answers from Yamuna when he and Kai had first visited the Goddess of Life and Fertility. Yamuna had proved difficult in giving away information about Ezra’s creation then, and Agni believed she’d be more forthcoming with Ezra’s presence.

Though he was still reluctant about the Rudra revelation, Ezra understood the necessity of finding answers.

The Fire God stared into the willow forest before looking at Ezra. “She senses your presence, just as you sense hers. That is enough of a forewarning, is it not?”

Ezra lowered his lashes, unimpressed. “I’d say it’s a forewarning to expect a bombardment.”

“It’s still a forewarning and hardly unannounced.”

He was exasperatedly amused. “If people showed up in your realm with a forewarning of bombardment, I hardly think you’d appreciate it.”

Agni quirked a brow. “On the contrary, I would find it immensely entertaining. I hope they enjoy the trek through the desert.” He grinned smugly. “I once made Varuna travel the distance between the main portal and the home. The heat was unbearably warm that day. He eventually took flight in his egret form and was greeted by a particularly fierce sand storm.”

Ezra stared at the true humor across Agni’s face and had to scoff with disbelief. “The small pleasures of immortal ancients…”

“I cannot help that Varuna is an easy target.”

Ezra grinned at that, wondering what Kai would think of that revelation.

Even Varuna’s mortals—the Unda nobles—were easy targets.

He recalled Agni telling him the main portal into his territory was several leagues into the desert. Today, he and Agni had traveled through the portal closest to his home—one that was reserved for _invited_ guests. It had been Ezra’s first time encountering the portal used by deities for transportation. 

The portal was enormous. Its rocky archway was several feet high as it was wide. Inside the archway had been an oil-like film, swirling with an array of transparent colors.

Agni had informed him that there was only one archway across all of Elisium that delivered deities to their destinations. Ezra had struggled with the concept of one object being in multiple places at the same time but realized it was becoming increasingly difficult explaining things about Elisium and Naraka with scientific reason.

To activate the portal, Agni had clearly enunciated, 

_“Yamuna’s Territory.”_

According to Agni, every destination was different on their visitor protocols. There were some destinations that did not require authorization from their owners, such as major cities across Elisium or even the desert located deep within Agni’s territory. Then there were other destinations—such as the royal palace—that not only required a password but kept their password private, oftentimes changing it if there was a potential of it getting in the wrong hands. 

Indra—Agni had said—could create specific one-time passwords for a celebration and have them delivered to the invited guests. It would allow those guests direct access onto the palace grounds for the duration of the event.

“You can see Amaravati from here.”

Ezra turned away from the dark forest to the direction Agni was referring to. He’d seen the city earlier among the high foothills; he just hadn’t assumed it was anything worth noting. Walking away from the willows, Ezra moved toward the edge of the grassy hill where it sloped down into a sparkling river. A whitewashed stone bridge crossed to the other side of the river where a city sat upon its own enormous hill.

And on top that hill, standing proudly among the clouds, was a familiar white-and-gold palace.

“Amaravati,” Ezra repeated with little difficulty. Agni nodded with approval. “I am assuming it is the royal capital?”

“Yes. The deities proclaim it is Indra’s _sacred capital_.” Agni lifted a hand and pointed toward the palace. He appeared patient—almost as if he enjoyed pointing out new things that may intrigue Ezra. “On the other side of the palace is an ocean. I know you are unfamiliar with that particular term.”

When Agni did not expound further, Ezra was forced to ask, “What is an ocean?” He looked for something that stood out near the palace; however, he could see nothing but painfully blue skies, immaculate trees, and an enormous lake on the other side of the hill.

There was a hint of laughter in Agni’s voice as he took hold of Ezra’s shoulders and turned him toward the lake. “It is a large body of salt water. Much larger and deeper than any of the lakes in Concordia. It is filled with unusual creatures.”

Ezra frowned as he observed the ocean. It sounded as if it belonged in Naraka, not Elisium. “Everything you just described sounds dreadful.” It sounded dreadful, and it looked immensely intimidating as it stretched as far as the eye could see. Regardless of Ezra’s feelings on deep bodies of water, he imagined he could see enough beauty to understand why others would find it stunning.

The water was teal in color, the green hues standing out most vividly underneath the sun’s direct reach. The gentle waves of the water turned a frothy white as they accelerated toward the shore. As they clashed against the rocky coast, water splashed high into the sky, creating a vibrantly colored, rainbowed mist.

Agni’s hands curled around Ezra’s shoulders as they stared out into the distant blue. “I haven’t even gotten to the most troubling part yet. When I say it is filled with unusual creatures, I meant to say it is home to your cousin Varuna.”

Ezra turned his head, nearly brushing noses with Agni. He allowed a slow smile to stretch across his mouth.

Agni matched it with one of his own.

“Doubly dreadful, then.”

“And yet, it is remarkably beautiful,” a serene voice intervened between the two gods. “Not many deities have the honor to grace the walls of his palace. It is spectacular, albeit a bit ostentatious. I’d like to think he’s just trying to impress Jaldevi.”

Ezra turned toward Yamuna.

She was a vision of gentle femininity and beauty as she stood against the mild breeze. Her pale hair and dark-navy gown fluttered serenely away from her body, revealing her long neck and her naked feet. A simple gold anklet adorned one of her ankles and an equally thin and unassuming chain fell down the chest of her open gown.

Seeing her again…

Ezra felt his chest grow heavy as the piece of Yama inside him stretched yearningly toward her.

They came together almost intuitively—like the two silver willow trees standing at the entrance of Yamuna’s territory. Ezra felt her lips press against both his cheeks, and he reached out to clasp her arms instinctively. 

“Ezra,” she greeted fondly with a genuine smile. She clasped his arms back, her pale eyes surveying him from head to toe. Those cold eyes warmed considerably. “You are _beautiful_.”

Typically, Ezra had grown accustomed to the reactions of Yama’s Essence within him—at least accustomed enough to be able to suppress it. However, the imprints of Yama’s sentiments for his sister seemed especially poignant here. It was as if this were a place they had met often. Though Ezra couldn’t imagine Yama being unaffected by the living souls here.

Well aware of Agni’s darkening countenance, Ezra released her arms and his head cleared. “It is good to see you again, Yamuna.”

Her stare seemed obsessive—almost bittersweet with memories of old and sentiments they both knew he could not return. “I believe I have a good idea as to why you’re here.” She finally looked toward Agni. Her expression puckered with faint distaste. “Why the both of you are here.” Her eyes resettled on Ezra. “Come. Let us continue this inside.”

She turned and approached the entrance of her territory. As she stepped between the two willows, she placed a hand against one of the silvery trunks. The touch was especially reverent.

“Won’t the mortal souls react to my presence?” Ezra asked after her.

“They will. But no harm will come to them if you refrain from touching.”

_Refrain from touching_.

It was what mothers said to their children before they ventured to marketplaces full of open vendors.

Agni’s hand was warm as it settled briefly at the small of his back, urging him inside the trees and reminding him why he was here. He was about to face a truth he was not particularly invested in. But he was moving forward with intentions of absorbing everything he could about the god realm, and that included his origins.

Nevertheless, it did not escape his notice that Agni was far more eager over the development than Ezra was.

As they ventured through the darkened forest, the sunlight trickled sluggishly through the heavy canopy. White rabbits and squirrels scurried from Ezra, while birds stopped their singing and tucked themselves in the cover of the trees. The brightly colored flowers on the willows dimmed as he passed, while others noticeably shivered and closed themselves to mere buds.

Ezra had been at a loss when he’d seen Yamuna’s bare feet, but now he understood. The dark soil under his feet was incredibly fertile and cushioned his steps. It fermented the air with an earthy and clean scent, undoubtedly nurturing and growing anything planted in its depths. He almost felt as if he were being invasive by stomping on it with his boots.

“Indra was here after I departed for the mortal realm,” Agni broke the silence of the hushed and still forest.

“He was, yes.” Yamuna looked at Agni from over her shoulder. “I told him as much as I told you, Agni. The truth is not for anyone but Ezra to hear. Only he will decide what he wants to do with the information and who he wants to share it with.” 

Well, she certainly put Agni in his place…

Ezra wasn’t quite sure he’d ever seen Agni deliver a look so poisonous to Yamuna's back.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Ezra started warily, “but I would like Agni here.”

“And so he shall be.” Yamuna led them through the weeping willows, which seemed to hug her as she passed. “What I have to tell you involves the both of you, anyway. It is best he is here.”

That didn’t sound cryptic in the least.

The sporadically glowing willow branches darkened and stayed dark as he wandered past. While they had hugged Yamuna, they dramatically parted from Ezra. He took no offense to the forest’s antics, for his migraine wasn’t nearly as prominent as it had been earlier. They entered a large clearing full of glowing silver and gold pools of water. Those dimmed and the swans within the ponds abruptly vacated their dwellings.

Ezra watched the graceful birds soar away with other light-colored birds joining their escape.

It appeared as if the only wildlife that tolerated his presence were glowing grubs. 

And he had repaid their loyalty by stepping on them.

“I understand you want the full story, Ezra, yet I can’t possibly offer you everything when I am just as ignorant.” She turned and sat at the edge of a retaining wall. Behind her, the ripples across the pond stilled unnaturally, and the radiating lotuses fearfully closed their petals. “In the grand scheme of things, all three of us were mere pawns. Dare I say, Yama was a pawn himself?”

At Agni’s low hiss of disagreement, her eyes flashed.

“Do not—”

“Your brother was not the victim,” Agni patronized.

“Yama was destined to fail from the very start.” She inhaled deeply to calm herself. “That realm…was not kind to my brother. He was far too proud to let it chase him away. Moreover, he was still a young god who made foolish decisions, which ultimately led to his downfall. But he was just as much a pawn in the end, Agni.”

Agni smiled unkindly. “Then who was the puppeteer?”

Her expression was that of resolve. “Naraka.”

Before Agni could deliver a scathing comment, Ezra sat next to Yamuna on the retaining wall. He offered her a kind look to counteract Agni’s abrasiveness. “I may not be an expert as of yet, but I know Naraka is intelligent and powerful,” he said. “Even mischievous at times. But what kind of schemes would it be inclined to create? Is it even _capable_ of manipulating to such an extent?”

Yamuna eased her posture until it was no longer stiff with defensiveness. “Perhaps it is best we discuss your origins first, Ezra. I imagine Agni has told you of his speculations.”

“Speculations?” Ezra felt a brief spasm of optimism. “Is Rudra not my sire?”

Agni lowered onto the bench across from him. “He’s your sire.” His tone left no room for argument. He looked at Yamuna. “What of his mother? Parvati—”

“There is no mother.” Yamuna placed a hand in the space between her and Ezra, as if in an attempt to soften her words.

Ezra didn’t really care either way.

“When I touched your soul for the first time, I knew it to be created by Rudra and only Rudra. There was no mother’s influence, at least not in the traditional sense of the word. That’s not to say Rudra did not envision a child created by himself and Parvati. It is undoubtedly why you carry some of her features—just as Brahma had done with his four children.”

“Parvati?”

Yamuna looked accusingly at Agni. “You tell him of the Trimurti but not the Tridevi?”

“It has only been a handful of days. We haven’t had the time to discuss everything pertaining to the god realm,” Agni replied derisively. He focused on Ezra. “The Tridevi are the female counterparts of the Trimurti. Their establishment is more recent than the Trimurti, but they are—were—just as vital to the god realm as their male counterparts. They were revered by the goddesses, just as the gods revered the Trimurti.”

“They represented everything a goddess aspired to be. They represented strength, ferocity, and independence.” A gentle smile touched Yamuna’s mouth. “Vishnu’s consort was Lakshmi. She was the Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity. And Brahma’s consort, Saraswati—Agni’s mother—is the Goddess of Knowledge, Art, and Peace.”

“Mother?” Ezra looked questioningly at Agni.

“Not by blood but by name.” Agni crossed his legs and leaned back. “While they _were_ consorts at the time, Brahma had a very specific creation in mind. He wanted the four nature deities; therefore, he conceived us himself. He interwove many attributes of Saraswati within his children. You see— _saw_ —her traits reflected most prevalently with Prithvi.”

Ezra frowned. “Why didn’t he just conceive you all with Saraswati the traditional way?”

“Having another influence—especially one as influential as Saraswati—has the possibility of creating something that is unplanned.” Yamuna glanced at Agni. “Brahma was very specific in what he wanted with the Four.”

The idea that gods—men—could just birth a child seemed…entirely surreal to Ezra. Brahma did it four times, and apparently Rudra had accomplished the same feat. But… _how_ ? Did they—did they do it bodily? _It couldn’t be done bodily_ , he chastised himself. Gods and goddesses were born in their adult forms with child-like mentalities.

There were no bodily extractions.

“Saraswati is still alive, then? As well as Brahma…” Ezra focused on Agni. “Are you close with your parents? I know you said Brahma slept often, but did he not waken when Prithvi died? What of Saraswati?”

Perhaps it was a better question to ask Agni in private.

Surprisingly, Agni answered despite Yamuna’s presence. “I have vague, yet fond recollections of Saraswati and Brahma during my youth. I hold deep respect for them. They are incredible deities who harness absolute power. However, even when I was a fledgling, they were ancient. They were preoccupied with creation, with delegating tasks, and understandably very involved with each other. Vishnu and Lakshmi raised the four of us.”

Yamuna exhaled lightly. “From what others have said, Vishnu and Lakshmi were not your exclusive guardians.”

Agni’s eyes brightened. “I was often a handful,” he told Ezra. “Vishnu and Lakshmi said if we misbehaved, we would have to stay with Rudra. You must understand, Rudra was legendary in his fearsomeness. He was a recluse and rarely ventured from his mountain. No one knew what to expect when he descended from his perch, but he often brought with him some form of destruction. The threat to stay under his watch was a valid one, but it had intrigued me immensely.”

Ezra pressed his lips together. “Of course it did.” 

Not for the first time, he wished he could have witnessed Agni as a fledgling.

He would have been an amusing little _shit._

Agni smiled. “The few times I spent with Rudra as a fledgling were truly terrifying. I never wanted to return to him and was often on my best behavior for several years thereafter. He did it mostly for the theatrics, having heard of my misbehaving from Vishnu. But the older I became, the more I respected and admired him. I relentlessly appealed to stay and study under Rudra.”

As Ezra watched Agni recollect his childhood, he realized the amount of admiration he held for Rudra. He’d seen evidence of it before, but he had never understood the extent.

He’d been jealous there’d been a deity worth Agni’s immense attention.

The revelation of Rudra being Ezra’s sire wasn’t necessarily just affecting _him._ Rudra had truly been like a father—a guardian—to Agni. Oftentimes, Ezra forgot that—being Agni’s lover—he was entitled to be as invested in Agni’s life as Agni was in his. That meant the _past,_ present, and future _._ There was so much of Agni to learn about. So much Ezra found fascinating.

Rudra sounded as if he’d been a large influence on how Agni had turned out.

Learning more about Rudra would help paint a better picture of _Agni_. It would not explain things about his own existence—as he had already found his way without Rudra’s influence—but it was essential to learn for Agni’s benefit.

“And he agreed?” Ezra assumed.

“After passing a few trials,” Agni responded smugly. “But in answer to your earlier inquiry, we were all deferential to Brahma and Saraswati, yet our uncles and aunt were very much the root of our existence. Upon Prithvi’s passing, I felt Brahma and Saraswati wake briefly, but they did not make an appearance in Elisium. No one has seen them since the passing of their siblings.”

_Grief?_ Ezra wondered. “You mean no one has seen them with the exception of Yama’s destruction one hundred years ago.”

Agni inclined his head in acquiescence. “Brahma’s powers were unleashed to destroy Yama, but he did not linger.”

“You mentioned Parvati.” Ezra looked to Yamuna, drawing the conversation away from Yama’s death. “Was she Rudra’s consort then?”

Agni and Yamuna traded looks. “They were in a courtship,” Agni responded carefully. “Like us. Not married, yet very much committed and declared future consorts.”

Ezra’s lashes lowered in order to avoid looking at Agni’s pleased smirk.

Marriage, yes.

How could he forget? It was on Agni’s list of things to do _immediately,_ whereas Ezra was still trying to wrap his mind around having a _husband._ There were still things to learn about their own courtship and what that entailed.

“Parvati was my predecessor of sorts, as I was born to fill the void she left behind.” Yamuna’s voice was tight with amusement as she looked between the two. “The Goddess of Love, Fertility, and Marriage. Parvati and Lakshmi also passed away during the Last War. While they hadn’t been on the battlefield, it is suggested they faded away upon the death of their counterpart.”

Ezra frowned. He and Agni were counterparts.

He wondered if _he’d_ fade if Agni ever died, and vice versa.

“When Ashvin attended to Ezra, he indicated Ezra’s Essence was several centuries old.” Agni uncrossed his legs and leaned forward on the bench. He was growing agitated, Ezra noticed. “Do you know his precise age? Rudra had to have conceived him sometime before the last battle. That was over six hundred years ago.”

Yamuna inhaled deeply and leaned back, bracing her hands behind her. “There were no accounts that Rudra birthed a child before the Last War.”

Ezra squinted down at the lush blades of grass cushioning his boots. Whether subconsciously or not, Yamuna relied heavily upon misdirection when answering questions. She was naturally defensive with her responses even if her countenance was confident and poised. 

There were no accounts Rudra had given birth to a child, no. 

So what was Yamuna implying, exactly? 

As if also recognizing Yamuna’s evasiveness, Agni became relentless. “Because Ezra was _hidden,_ ” he countered fiercely. From the set of his shoulders and the predominant red in his eyes, his patience was wearing thin. “He was put to sleep—”

“For nearly six hundred years, yes.” She hesitated. “It is my understanding that Yama knew of Ezra’s existence during his tenure as Reaper but chose not to do anything about it. Ezra wasn’t supposed to sleep that long, and that decision led to Yama’s downfall.” 

Ezra’s brows pinched as he allowed Agni and Yamuna to continue their back-and-forth. 

“How so?” Agni demanded impatiently.

“ _Naraka._ ” Yamuna pushed off from her hands and leaned forward, engaging Agni’s frustration with her own. “He did not listen to Naraka as he should have. It wanted him to retrieve Ezra’s slumbering form from the lower levels of the underworld and bring him to me. Yama—for whatever reason—refused to entertain the possibility. He kept Ezra sleeping up until the very end of his rule.”

“Yama...” Agni started with a dangerously low tenor, “single-handedly delayed Rudra’s plans for six hundred years _._ Why? Was he threatened over Ezra’s potential to outrank him? Was he afraid of Rudra’s reasons for conceiving a fledgling? Quite frankly, Yama had deserved—”

“I don’t understand,” Ezra interrupted Agni, knowing exactly what the god was going to say. _He’d deserved his end._ And while Ezra agreed wholeheartedly, they needed to refrain from insulting Yama in order to pacify Yamuna. At least for now. “Why couldn’t Naraka just wake me itself? Did Yama even know who my sire was at the time? How—Why was I even sleeping in ‘the depths’ of Naraka?”

Agni’s expression—as fleeting as it was—was enough to catch Ezra’s attention. 

He narrowed his eyes on the Fire God, seeing those wheels turn and knowing Agni was devising his own theories and conclusions. 

“I don’t know why you were in Naraka,” Yamuna answered, ignorant to Agni’s silent deliberation. “But your soul and Essence were essentially placed in a vessel of sorts. As the Goddess of Life and Fertility, only I could extract you from it.” She suddenly stood from the retaining wall and began to pace. “You were slumbering inside a small wolf by the time I discovered you, tucked between the wards of Naraka and the wards keeping the Syphons and daemons trapped.”

Ezra chuckled, earning the sharp attention of Agni.

He had to express his disbelief in some way.

“A wolf? For six hundred years.” He deadpanned.

Yamuna nodded once, breezing slowly past Ezra. “I extracted your soul and Essence from the wolf and manipulated it from there. While your natural born Essence was dormant and asleep, it was still stronger than Yama’s fractured one. Souls and Essences are living organisms which will adapt to their environment. Though this particular scenario was unusual, the forced cohabitation in a single space spawned a survival instinct. Your Essence eventually ended up absorbing Yama’s in order to surmount and make it your own.”

“And…” Ezra trailed off briefly, his mind reeling and trying to make sense of the _why._ “Ember and Calder…?”

Yamuna turned and faced Ezra. “When Indra put Elisium in lockdown, did Agni explain how he grounded himself in the mortal realm?”

Ezra turned his eyes to Agni, who watched him steadily in turn. _Agni_ hadn’t told him how he’d grounded, keeping it one big mystery until Indra had opened his mouth. As Ezra recollected what Indra had said, he grew nauseated. 

“He wrapped himself in a mortal soul.”

“He did. He put himself to sleep and enveloped himself in a mortal soul.” She paused. “He and the unborn child dwelled inside an expecting mother. As you know, mortal women cannot carry gods. Therefore, when he and his powers woke, he destroyed both the mother and the unborn child. If he’d stayed sleeping, the mother would have successfully carried to full term.”

“Like Ember,” Agni added.

“ _Partly_ like Ember,” Ezra corrected sharply with a withering look at Agni. “If you’d forgotten, I’d consumed most of her while in the womb.”

_And consumed the rest of her when she’d attacked Agni…_

How fitting.

“Which was a misstep of mine,” Yamuna admitted. “In one hand, I had your complete godly soul and Essence.” She reached out a palm, as if cupping something precious. “In the other hand, I held a portion of Yama’s Essence, which was contaminated after he created the Syphons. I attempted to put that part asleep as well, but evidently, I had not subdued it _completely_.”

She clasped her hands together.

Ezra stared at the folded, pale hands. 

“In short, I am simply Rudra’s son with a piece of Yama.” He looked up at her. “It sounds relatively straightforward, but how do Ember and Calder fit into this? Are you insinuating you wrapped me in the soul of Ember and Calder’s child?”

As if sensing Ezra’s fracturing resolve, Yamuna spoke up with reassurance. “You are their child regardless of how things were constructed.”

“I am a parasite,” Ezra shot back sharply. “You said so yourself. The survival instinct in a contained space. I leeched the life from their child _and_ from Ember. I _ate_ Ezra Talise.”

Before Yamuna could reply, Agni beat her to it. “You did.”

Ezra frowned at the blatant agreement.

He shouldn’t have expected anything less from Agni.

“It’s survival of the fittest,” Agni continued unsympathetically. “Gods are destructive, and they are apex creatures. Yes, you absorbed Yama’s Essence and the Talise child’s mortal soul and made them your own. But the assimilation was only natural, and quite frankly, it was entirely unsurprising it happened.”

Agni, as always, was that voice of reason that shook Ezra from his self-pity.

“I’ve told you several times before that your mortal life was _crucial_. If Yamuna had simply woken you when she found you, you’d still be a newborn, completely and utterly dependent on your elders. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were six-hundred-years-old. You’d been asleep for far too long. You wouldn’t have the experience—the maturity—you have now.”

He was trying to justify Ezra absorbing—well—himself.

To Agni, one mortal soul meant nothing compared to a god’s wellbeing and preparedness to face opposition. Whatever opposition that was. Ezra had yet to pry that information from Agni. Upon the god’s declaration yesterday about bringing darkness back to Elisium, he’d reassured Ezra he’d learn when the time was right.

Ezra knew there would be more conflict in their future aside from releasing the Syphons and daemons.

“This has never been done before, Ezra,” Yamuna stressed. “Nor will it ever be done again. We do not place slumbering gods within mortal souls.” She looked pointedly at Agni. “Agni being a rare and only exception.”

And there was also _that…_

Agni’s little scheme to ground himself by sacrificing an unborn mortal child and its mother.

Ezra bowed his head and released a breathless laugh. 

Truthfully, there was nothing surprising or new he’d heard today, aside from the meal he’d made of Ezra Talise’s mortal soul. Agni had already explained most of this after Ember’s cremation service, inside the Talise mausoleum. The only difference was that Yamuna did not use a neutral godly soul, but rather the godly soul belonging to Rudra’s son.

He paused as he considered the implications of that. The neutral godly soul was supposed to possess the traits Agni had requested in a counterpart.

_“I asked for a male counterpart with beauty that would rival my own.”_

_“You had to possess loyalty.”_

_“I wanted you to have the ability of love and affection without it ruling you and being noxiously obvious. I didn’t want you to fear me. Only strive to be better to match my ferocity.”_

_“Above all else, you had to keep up with me in terms of power and intellect. You needed to be cruel when the situation is warranted, but offset it with controlled empathy.”_

Did that mean that Yamuna had lied to Agni? That she hadn’t—

That they weren’t—

Ezra slowly looked back up, catching Agni watching him intensely, evidently having already come to the same realization. His expression did not reveal surprise, indicating he had—perhaps—come to the conclusion long before Ezra and was merely waiting for him to catch up. 

Ezra’s chest constricted upon the revelation and what it may mean for their relationship.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Yamuna had added all those requests into Ezra’s soul despite it not being a blank—neutral—soul that she’d created from scratch. Why else would they have a bond? However, the longer he pondered over the situation, the more he realized there was more to this. Yamuna hadn’t simply lied about creating a counterpart. 

Someone—or something—had horribly manipulated Agni.

He recalled Agni’s memories from the spear, more specifically the memories after Skanda’s death.

There had been an influence calming down Agni’s instinctual rage and desire to destroy anything and everything. But the most puzzling aspect were the visions Agni had experienced upon waking. Of Yamuna. Of Ezra. Of Yamuna cradling something precious near Naraka’s wards. The Fire God had believed he’d conspired a way to simultaneously extract vengeance on the gods and retrieve his son from Naraka. Consequently, he’d approached Yamuna and sought to manipulate her into creating the Reaper exclusively for his own. 

But something had intended Agni to go to Yamuna. Something had anticipated Agni taking possession of Ezra. Regardless of whether or not it had been Yamuna, she had known about the manipulation of Agni from the very beginning.

But why? 

“As informative as your explanations were,” a voice drawled from behind Ezra, “it does not explain how you know all this, Yamuna. You certainly did not have this information before Yama’s fall.”

Ezra’s eyes widened a fraction, marveling at the utter audacity.

He tore his eyes from Agni and looked over his shoulder at the tall form pompously making its way into the clearing. The King of Gods was dressed in fitted trousers today, forgoing his usual flamboyant, trailing cloak. He made up for the lack of dramatic flair by pairing his trousers with a low-cut jacket of loud patterns and a mess of chains.

Somehow, Indra made it appear fashionable despite its peculiarity.

Agni stood slowly from the bench, his expression one of exasperation. “It is reassuring to know that, despite the slap on your wrist, you haven’t lost your appeal for voyeurism.”

Ezra lifted a brow in bemusement.

Just what voyeurism were they speaking of?

“Oh, please, Agni.” Indra tutted as his smug eyes settled on an apathetic Ezra. “I have eyes and ears everywhere in Elisium. I knew the moment you used the portal to visit Yamuna.” His pale eyes turned steely. “I have been waiting for similar answers for quite some time. Which brings me to my most imperative question.”

After taking proper regard to Ezra's form, his attention settled on Yamuna. She appeared unsurprised at his presence, yet one could not mistake her wariness as she waited for Indra’s question.

“ _How_ did you gain possession of Yama’s Essence?”

To be fair, this was a question Ezra and Agni would have asked if Indra hadn’t interrupted. Yamuna knew too much for someone who excelled at alluding to ignorance. Eager to see her reaction to Indra’s singular focus, Ezra reclined on the retaining wall, lazily stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles.

Yamuna’s expression flattened into one of indifference. “I did not—”

“He’s alive, isn’t he?” Ezra asked slowly, refusing to allow Yamuna to dance her way out of this. He incurred the attention of everyone in the clearing. “Perhaps not as the God of Death and Justice—how can he be when I carry his Essence? But as Yama. A Syphon, perhaps?” He’d drawn the same conclusion before, when he and Yamuna last spoke with one another, but she’d avoided the truth.

Just as she would now.

“Yama had realized the error of his ways by keeping Ezra hidden away. He had trusted someone to retrieve Ezra from the depths of Naraka,” Yamuna said. “This person placed him near the wards where the Syphons are locked. It is how I found Ezra. How I knew of him.”

Something peculiar crossed Agni’s face before it was gone a moment later. 

“I would have believed Brahma had eradicated Yama completely, yet I am beginning to suspect you are right. He is alive. Or a _part_ of him is alive.” Indra cast a look at Ezra and Agni before refocusing on Yamuna. “How else would you know that Naraka relentlessly plagued Yama because he did not bring Ezra to you?”

Things still did not make sense.

What were the voices of Naraka? They’d affected Ezra just as much as they’d likely affected Yama. What of the collapsed city where Yama had paced back and forth? Was that where Ezra had been sleeping? Or did it have to do with that hair-raising ominousness? What of that illusion Ezra had seen? Of the god with the trident?

Yama may have been driven mad by more than just ignoring Ezra’s existence.

“Call it a twin’s intuition,” Yamuna replied aloofly, gazing at her uncle. 

Indra stared back.

Ezra watched him closely, noticing the smugness slowly dying into something far more devious. Regardless of whether Yamuna was a blood relation, Indra’s consideration was far from reassuring and every bit calculating.

“If he is alive—”

“He is not.”

Agni’s sudden interjection incurred Ezra’s sharp attention. There was a tenseness to the way he moved, almost as if he were struggling to stifle a particularly strong impulse. 

“I believe our time here has come to an end.” His hand descended on Ezra’s shoulder. “We’ve gotten what we came for. More questions.” He leveled Yamuna with a look void of emotion, which was entirely unnerving in itself. “Intentions cloaked with secrecy. Elusion never looked so painfully evident.”

“You’re one to talk, Agni,” Yamuna answered.

The sheer _hate_ emanating from Agni took Ezra by surprise. Yamuna had her secrets, and she was selective as to what information she shared. Ezra believed it was a result of protecting Yama—in whatever form he took now. But to view her in such a zealously abhorrent light...

Understandably, Agni was angry she had played him, but Ezra wasn’t sure it was Yamuna who had manipulated him.

Indra pulled out a scroll. “We are not yet finished here, Agni.” He watched as Ezra stood. “We must discuss his—”

Agni wasn’t having it. “Not today.”

As Ezra moved away from the pond, the lotus flowers slowly peeled back open with a sigh of relief. He watched with intrigue as Agni and Indra crossed paths. The tension between both gods was deliciously palpable, and Ezra enthusiastically watched their stare down. The two gods were both capable and imposing, and it made their opposition that much more fascinating to observe. It was especially exciting when Indra dropped his politically neutral politeness to match Agni’s ferocity.

“I would like to discuss the circumstances surrounding Rudra’s death,” Indra pressed with a marginal, victorious quirk of his brow. “Knowing of your blatant favoritism, you will twist the Reaper’s sentiments.” Here, he looked at Ezra. “As impressive as he was, Rudra was no savior.”

“No,” Agni agreed, “he was not. But he did not stick his attentions where they did not belong. Vishnu was always exuding airs and meddling in things that did not concern him.”

“Did not concern him?” Indra’s eyes widened a fraction with mock disbelief. “He solely defended his people.”

“Both the Devas and the Asura were ‘his people’. Because he played favorites, a healthy competition escalated into total extinction.”

“An extinction you played a great part in.”

Ezra was taken aback at how abruptly Agni silenced upon Indra’s comment.

“Besides,” Indra continued, “at least Vishnu did not grant boons to the Asuras to give them unfair advantages—”

“Advantages that Vishnu single-handedly offered the Devas by siding with them.”

Ezra gazed between the two, sensing this was a conflict that still carried bitter sentiments despite it ending _six hundred years ago_. Gods truly did not recognize time as a constriction, did they? What happened centuries ago was almost akin to a mortal’s equivalent to just a few years prior. Evidently, Vishnu and Rudra had clashed in the Last War. And while Ezra wanted to know about it, this was not the time to garner information. 

Not when Agni and Indra were both hot.

Ezra stepped next to Agni, easing his way partly between the both of them. He placed a hand on Agni’s taut abdomen and gazed up at Indra. “While it’s flattering you care so much about my perceptions, Indra, I do have the ability to form my own opinions.”

Indra finally tore his attention from Agni and handed Ezra the scroll. “Your invitation and password to the palace celebration,” he informed tightly. “Perhaps there, you and I can have a proper discussion.”

_Preferably without Agni._

Ezra accepted the scroll with his gloved hand and allowed Agni to pull him away from Indra and Yamuna.

As they turned, Ezra caught sight of a faint red light emitting from further down the clearing. His instincts seized up with both hunger and intrigue, and yet, there was an unsettling impression that Ezra could not place, nor shake. Was it his own feeling of unease? Or was the unease contributed to Yama’s Essence that occasionally emitted unexplainable feelings within Ezra?

“That red light,” Ezra murmured quietly to Agni, “what is it from?”

Agni offered a look over his shoulder. “The location of the Keepers. It is where they join with Yamuna to develop the Essences of new gods. I will introduce you at another time.”

Ezra’s senses prickled uncontrollably and his doubts soared as he looked back at the red light as well as Yamuna and Indra. Immersed in quiet discussion with Indra, Yamuna suddenly looked up, catching Ezra’s eyes. 

He grimaced, feeling almost _dirty_. What if Yamuna had lied? What if Yama’s Essence wasn’t truly dominated by Ezra’s own Essence? What if Yamuna and Yama had schemed something together? What were Indra’s intentions? And Agni—

Ezra looked up at Agni, sensing the god had withdrawn into himself. Now that they were away from the source of Agni’s anger, the Fire God seemed distant and deeply contemplative. His countenance did not sit well with Ezra, as he felt the faint traces of unsettlement coming from Agni’s side of the bond. 

Agni was never unsettled. 

“You probably haven’t been manipulated before,” Ezra observed keenly. “Or, at least not to such an extent.” 

Agni’s tone was derisive. “I couldn’t care less about that.” 

Ezra frowned. That was highly unlikely. Agni enjoyed being the one who knew everything about everyone. To be the one deceived was undoubtedly difficult to swallow. “Then what made you upset? Rudra—” 

“This has nothing to do with Rudra or Yamuna,” Agni’s response was sharp and impatient. “It is nothing.” 

It was clearly _something_ and Ezra would eventually figure it out. 

They walked the rest of the way in heavy silence. 


	18. Stirrings of Trepidation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge, HUGE thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for her help looking over this chapter! Any mistakes are my own.

  1. **Stirrings of Trepidation**



The figure’s turned and vulnerable back tempted Ezra forward, kindling a wicked adrenaline that proved impossible to suppress. Not even his clothes dared to rustle upon his stealthy approach. His steps were silent. His breathing even and low.

It was the hunt. The prowl.

His fingers twitched.

Marveling at the similarities between the spear’s memories and the present, Ezra channeled Agni as he approached Skanda’s oblivious form. The Syphon was observing the same wall of mounted weapons, entirely ignorant to the god approaching him from behind. The wide-open shutters invited the setting sun inside, bathing the same room from back then in a luminous light. The weapons were nearly the same. The floor identical.

The only real difference between now and Agni’s memories was that Skanda was no longer flushed with color or warmth.

Ezra felt a bitter pang as he recalled Agni’s first thoughts upon approaching his son. _Was he present? Was he healthy? Was he in one piece?_ In the memory, the sheer delight Agni had felt upon seeing his son had taken Ezra by surprise. He had recalled Agni feeling worn—exhausted—and having no sense of purpose unless Skanda visited him.

Without turning, Skanda greeted him, “Reaper.”

Ezra refrained from glowering.

Agni hadn’t been able to sneak up on Skanda either.

Coming to a stop next to Skanda, Ezra observed the wall of weapons, wondering if this was the room Skanda used for contemplation. “You know,” he started casually, “you can address me as _Ezra_. If you feel especially bashful about it, you can use it when it’s just the two of us.” He flashed a cheeky grin at Skanda and pitched his voice temptingly low. “We can start slowly.”

Skanda’s attention honed quickly on Ezra.

Ezra raised his eyebrows challengingly. “Let me hear you say it.”

The minimal surprise dulled into wary amusement. “My father would have a conniption if he heard you now.”

“Half the things I do, I do to encourage a conniption from your father.”

Skanda shook his head with a scoff. “You must find amusement in his anger.”

 _Amusement_ wasn’t exactly the word Ezra would use to describe how he felt when Agni acted on his frustrations and manhandled him into submission. He made a noise of contemplation in his throat, reminded yet again how long it had been. He missed Agni being physically rough with him and completely dominating their interaction in the bedroom.

“Speaking of your father,” Ezra started, forcing his mind away from sex, “have you seen him?”

Skanda’s expression closed. “Yes. A few minutes ago. He’s in a mood.” 

They’d returned from Yamuna’s territory not long ago. Frustrated with Agni’s uncharacteristic silence, Ezra had separated himself from the god and gone to search out Chitragupta. However, Agni’s _fortress_ was enormous and Ezra ended up lost and turned around for what seemed like hours. He hadn’t found Kai _or_ Chit. And when he tried to switch gears and search for Agni, he couldn’t find him either.

It was by pure chance he’d stumbled across Skanda and reentered a more familiar area of the home.

“He demanded I recall what had happened before my death. When I couldn’t recall much, he stormed away.” Grey eyes looked down at Ezra. “I haven’t seen him act like a petulant fledgling in ages.”

Ezra’s lips twitched at the apt description.

He did not understand why Agni had closed himself off after visiting Yamuna. He claimed it had nothing to do with Rudra or Yamuna. So why had his first destination been his son in search of answers? Was this about Skanda? Ezra raked his mind, trying to recall what had been said and how it related to Skanda.

Somehow, Agni had been focused on the events that lead to Skanda’s death…

“Does he act like a petulant fledgling often?” Ezra asked distantly, his mind partially distracted by devising possibilities.

“Only if Indra or his siblings get under his skin.”

Ezra looked up at that, intrigued. It was evident Indra and Agni were always dancing around each other, but— “I understand Vayu and Varuna, but is Indra truly worth getting worked up over?”

Skanda’s dark brows rose, giving him an uncanny resemblance to Agni. “Indra is one of the most powerful deities in Elisium.” He looked at Ezra, contemplating. “Indra is known as the Dragon Slayer. He killed an Asura by the name of Vritra, who had the ability to shapeshift into a dragon.”

_A dragon._

Ezra’s expression was entirely blank. Fortunately, dragons were in the mortal folktales he’d heard as a child. Assuming the god realm’s dragons were the same as in the mortal folklores, he knew exactly what they looked like and how ferociously strong they were. And _of course_ Indra would be the one to slay a dragon. Because he would be the type to welcome the theatrics and the glory that accompanied said defeat.

Indra sounded similar to Agni when it came to overdramatic demonstrations of power and influence.

“And…” Skanda trailed off briefly with an impish expression. “Uncle Varuna wouldn’t appreciate me telling you this, but he briefly sat on the throne as the King of Gods. Indra challenged him to the position and won.”

Now _that_ was more fascinating than slaying a dragon. Ezra narrowed his eyes as he considered Agni and Varuna’s odd partnership. “Indra is not a nature deity, although he does wield lightning,” Ezra mused. Varuna was Agni’s equal for the most part, was he not? Although, truthfully, he hadn’t seen Indra, Agni, or Varuna in full battle mode. “It is hard imagining him winning against Varuna’s water powers.”

“Ah, yes, well, while Indra is an infamous warrior when it comes to combat, most of his ‘ _powers’_ come from his Astras.”

“His what?”

Skanda’s lips twitched. “Astras are powerful godly weapons that carry supernatural capabilities. There are some Astras that are far more destructive than others and oftentimes require an incantation to harness their powers. Indra’s staff possesses the Astra called Vajra, which is a fitting weapon against Agni—as it repels and produces lightning. It also gives him indestructibility against fire.”

Ezra deliberated that. “If the weapon is always on his person, it’s rather revealing who he believes is the larger threat.” He paused. “Has Agni ever challenged Indra to the position as king?”

“Never. As I’m sure you know, Agni isn’t one for politics. He does not have the patience nor the desire.”

Ezra would have to agree. He could not see Agni on a throne. Turning his eyes back to the weapons, he considered Brahma’s sword that Skanda had wielded during the altercation against the Eurus Empire. “When did Indra become the King of Gods? Was it after the Last War?”

“Many, many centuries earlier.”

“But what of Brahma? Or any of the other Trimurti?”

“Brahma always had his attentions somewhere other than the present. And Rudra was far too much like Agni—uninterested in the pettiness of court and politics. Vishnu…” Here, Skanda paused. “He’d have been more inclined to take the throne, but Brahma had explicitly told his brothers to interfere as little as possible with the affairs of Devas and Asuras. Their powers were enormous and taking sides would have created imbalance.” 

“But they interfered anyway,” Ezra presumed. “I was told Rudra and Vishnu clashed in the Last War.”

“They did.” A wistful expression crossed Skanda’s face. “I would have enjoyed being a participant in that battle. All I have is my father’s account, which is quite satisfactory, but it only makes me want to have been there that much more.”

“And Agni? Did he fight alongside the Asuras and Rudra?”

Skanda furrowed his brows. “No. He fought alongside the Devas. Rudra wasn’t even a participant until the very last battle. And that’s when things descended into chaos and confusion. It is a story Agni would tell best, and one I know he would want to tell you personally.”

Ezra had assumed Agni joined the side of the Asuras with Rudra. However, there was clearly more to the story—more than Ezra could fathom at this point. It appeared as if the Asuras—despite not being immortal—had enormous power to stand opposite of the Devas. It also appeared as if Rudra had tried to refrain from meddling with the war and that had—perhaps—caused many to feel resentment against The Destroyer.

But to know Vishnu was a meddler when he was _The Preserver…_

He considered the wall of weapons, finding the twin swords once more. While the rest of the weapons appeared in near-perfect condition, there were still small scratches on the blades, or a few indentations on the staffs. But the twin swords were flawless. The dark blades were almost onyx in color, appearing glossy and engraved with unique, uneven patterns.

Leaning forward, he stared at them more closely, realizing the patterns in the blades gave off a subtle red glow—almost as if their cores were forged from brilliant ruby. The scabbard and the hilts were the same material as the blades, though the red designs were more evident as they coiled elaborately around the hilts.

“Who owned these swords?” Ezra asked, reaching out to touch one of the hilts.

“Agni.”

Ezra pulled back his hand and looked over his shoulder at Skanda.

He would have thought they’d belonged to Rudra.

“He forged them for me when I was still a fledgling, but I never mastered dual wielding. I am most dominant in my left hand. No one in the family is ambidextrous—with the exception of Brahma, Valli, and…you.”

It was the first time Skanda alluded to knowing about Ezra’s parentage.

He almost praised Skanda for his bravery.

“Valli?”

“Vishnu and Lakshmi’s daughter.” Skanda cleared his throat and promptly changed the subject. “The swords are not Astras, but I imagine you’d find a good weapon in them. Agni would be pleased if you used them.”

It would be tempting to wield them—they were beautiful—however dual wielding took a remarkable amount of time to master and adapt to. It was something Ezra could strive toward, but it would be best to continue mastering the staff or single blade before he moved on to twin swords. Even two short staffs would be a more logical next step than the swords.

There were much bigger threats in this realm. Ezra needed to master something. And he needed to master it quickly before worrying about discovering new abilities.

Ezra straightened and took a step back. “Does Agni have possession of any Astras? Or does Indra possess them all?”

Skanda actually laughed. It was deep in baritone and immensely pleased. “You’d think Indra would have them all, wouldn’t you? Granted, he does have quite a few kept under tight lock and key. And as much as Agni detests him, Indra is a good choice for keeping guard over them. They are immeasurably destructive.” He motioned to the wall of weapons. “And while most of these are ordinary godly weapons, the bow you were drawn to earlier—”

Skanda moved and touched the black bow.

“—is a powerful Astra. Agni removed the arrows. Without them, they render the Astra an ordinary weapon.” He gazed up at the bow and quiver. “As you know, it belonged to Rudra. He crafted it but did not use it often. He had other bows he preferred to utilize, and Agni keeps those, as well as other Astras, just as guarded as Indra.” 

The Syphon’s colorless fingers reverently traced the quiver, and it was evident how interested he was with weapons and talks of battles. That characteristic hadn’t seemed to have dissipated despite the God of War Essence no longer dwelling inside him.

“There were three arrows,” Skanda continued. “The first arrow would mark all the things you wished to destroy. When releasing the third arrow, it would destroy everything that was marked by the first arrow and return to the quiver.”

“And the second arrow?”

“The second arrow would be used to mark everything that you would want to save. And again, the third arrow would destroy everything that was not marked.” Skanda tapped the quiver appreciatively before looking at the others. “But by far, Trishula—his trident—was Rudra’s most powerful Astra that he _always_ wielded. Brahma and Vishnu also created immensely powerful Astras that—”

“A trident,” Ezra interrupted sharply as he remembered the illusion in the lower levels of Naraka. “Rudra has a trident?”

“Had,” Skanda corrected and gave Ezra a considering look. “Why?”

“I could not retrieve the trident after your father’s fall.” Agni suddenly announced his presence. He leaned against the doorway, observing both Skanda and Ezra. “He’d been in possession of it at the time of his death which was…particularly explosive thanks to the use of another Astra.” He uncrossed his arms and pushed off from the doorframe. “Come. Let me show you the study. After all, you’ll be spending the better part of your earlier decades there.”

Ezra glanced at Skanda. He had wanted to talk about the Syphon’s suppressed memories. Alas, with Agni breathing down his neck, he knew it would have to wait. “Will you tell Chit I’m looking for him?”

“I’m training with Kai tomorrow morning. Considering the two have been joined at the hip, I imagine you’ll see Chit there.” He paused. “It would be beneficial if you joined as well. You could use additional muscle, as your new form appears a bit fragile. Knowing your—father now…I have a good idea what your physique could resemble.”

Ezra blinked before looking down at his body. “I appreciate that.” He looked back up at Skanda. “I’ll be sure to join you tomorrow. If only to start the process of eradicating the frailness.”

He caught Agni’s eyes.

The Fire God raised a perfect eyebrow. “From what I’ve seen, there is enough definition.” A significant pause. “In all the right places.”

It was enough to propel Skanda from the room.

Ezra scoffed as he joined Agni in their trek down the corridor. His mirth eventually dissipated the longer they walked in silence, sensing the earlier grimness returning. This time, Ezra wasn’t going to let it go unanswered. “What has you all sulky?” he goaded, looking at the god at his side. 

“I would like to speak to you in private.”

That was enough to silence Ezra.

Deciding not to push the topic, he withheld his questions and dutifully followed the Fire God through the home. They passed through corridors bathed by the setting sun, the patterned shutters casting ornate shadows across the floors. A stream of dust—and most likely small sand particles—hovered whimsically in the golden rays, glimmering and giving the corridors an almost smoky appearance.

Agni led him toward a section of the house Ezra had roamed previously but hadn’t stopped to investigate. They stopped before a set of double doors which appeared to be made from a distressed oak and—fittingly enough—engraved with a naked oak tree that spanned from one end of the door to the other.

Ezra reached out, his fingers trailing across one of the spindly branches.

“A gift from Prithvi.”

His hand paused in its venture. “Does it hold some significance?”

Agni’s smile was small and indulgent. “Do you not recall anything of the Igni religion, child?”

Upon the playful ridicule, Ezra’s hand withdrew from the door. Now that they were in the god realm, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ezra’s knowledge on Agni was embarrassingly lacking. “You intended I remain ignorant of the Igni religion,” he replied a bit too sharply.

Agni considered him closely, as if surprised by Ezra’s defensiveness and trying to understand the reason.

Nonetheless, Agni wouldn’t be Agni unless he countered with his own logic. “No,” he drew out the word deliberately, “my intentions were for you to remain skeptical and refrain from active worship. There is quite a bit of truth in my religion, designed to lead the mortals on their right path.” He smirked. “It is simply an oak door, _charu_. I am not criticizing your competence.”

Ezra refocused on the door, determined to draw the right conclusion.

It didn’t take him long.

Afterall, it was Agni’s origins that had always amused Ezra.

“Legend claims you were born from the oak tree after it was struck by lightning.” Ezra looked at Agni. “That’s true?”

“Very true. Brahma had just created the mortal realm and decided we were to be born there. While there was no mankind as of yet, our births brought our elements to the realm.” He looked at the tree. “Our induction to existence was destructive, both in Elisium and the mortal realm. Because I was born after Prithvi, I destroyed much of her creations. She was very furious and harbored resentment for me for quite some time.”

He appeared bitterly amused as he splayed a hand against the door.

Ezra couldn’t help but remember Agni’s state of mind after her death.

“As a gesture of amity, she restored the oak tree that I was born in and created this door.” Agni then clasped the handle and unlatched it. It was evident he was eager to move on from the conversation. “But what lies inside may intrigue you the most.”

As much as Ezra wanted to press the topic of Prithvi, Agni had succeeded in moving the conversation along and was now entering one of the coziest-looking studies Ezra had ever seen. It was quite different in design than the rest of the home, resembling the inside of one of the many libraries within the Concordia palace. 

Ezra looked at Agni, who watched him closely in turn.

With a slight incline of his head, the Fire God encouraged Ezra to explore.

He wandered past Agni and into the room. To his right was a lounging area. Leather armchairs and couches sat in front of an enormous stone fireplace. Plush rugs were strewn across the polished wood floors, appearing thick enough to tempt Ezra to remove his boots. Red and purple stained-glass lamps set the ambience for a lulling and inviting read.

To the far left—separated by a few bookcases—was a table that put the council table to shame. It was far squarer in shape than the council table, allowing for endless amounts of strewn about books, papers, and maps. There were several lanterns set up around the table, most likely used to offset the soothing atmosphere of the lounging area.

Ezra hesitated, torn which direction to go.

He ended up approaching the three tall bookshelves separating the study and parlor.

Trailing his fingers across the spines of the books, he noticed a majority had titles written in Sanskrit. Some were not books at all, but rather scrolls enclosed within gold and silver casings. Glancing further down the aisle, he discovered a spiral staircase leading down into another level. He was surprised to see several more rows of bookcases, harboring scrolls, books, as well as hangers of maps and other large canvases.

“It’s massive.” Ezra turned to see Agni had trailed after him. “It’s a handsome study.” He paused, hesitating, before— “Very unlike the rest of the home in terms of style.”

“That is because I recently had it remodeled for you.”

_For you._

That’s what Ezra had assumed, and he didn’t know why it made him feel so…

“I remodeled several aspects of the home,” Agni informed. “The most extensive areas to receive renovations were the bedroom, the study, and the training area.”

Ezra preoccupied himself with pressing down the peeling corner of one of the books. He had a notion the renovations weren’t merely for him. Agni must have had memories here as well, memories he would rather place aside and never unearth. It reminded Ezra of his insistence to learn more about Agni and Svaha.

“You wanted to erase Svaha,” Ezra presumed. 

“That was not my intention with the renovations.” There was a tightness in Agni’s tone. “Svaha despised the desert. She hated the isolation more so. We had another property located in Amaravati where other prominent deities lived. It was the high society and endless socialization Svaha thrived on. It was a scene she’s known since youth.”

“I can’t see you agreeing to that lifestyle for long.”

Agni appeared almost frustrated. “It was a marriage, child. Spouses make sacrifices for one another.” He peered closely at Ezra. “Can you just say what you think of the renovations without having to look for a deeper meaning? One that does not even exist?”

Ezra laughed once. “Now you know how I feel. I mention something as innocuous as ‘whiskey’ and somehow that escalates to the psychological intricates of my emotional suppression.” He immediately became on edge when Agni turned away, ending their conversation. It was an indication that he had—perhaps—misread Agni’s sincere desire for commendation. 

He dropped his hand from the books, feeling that ugly sensation rise up again.

The one he’d experienced earlier that day when Agni had dismissed him.

Was this—

If Agni’s behavior had nothing to do with Rudra or Yamuna, did it have to do with the revelation of not being counterparts after all? Ezra hadn’t even considered it a possibility. He hadn’t even analyzed the revelation enough to pinpoint how _he_ felt about it. While the revelation had been a blow, he’d assumed nothing would change. It had been a superficial description that held no meaning. _To him._

Not when he and Agni had figured things out themselves without using their status as counterparts as a crutch.

But perhaps he’d been wrong.

Perhaps being counterparts had meant a great deal to Agni. Perhaps it was _why_ Agni had pursued a relationship with Ezra.

Ezra moved out from the bookcases and followed Agni. “I appreciate the care you put into making a space that reminds me of—of home.” He looked away when Agni turned to him. In hopes of changing the subject, he motioned to the three bookcases. “Are those your favorites? Is that why they’re separated from the others?”

“They are ones I’ve written.”

It shouldn’t have surprised him. But it did.

“Everything I’ve studied, I had a desire to write down my thoughts and observations as well as further investigations.” Agni approached the large table before leaning against the edge. Striking a lazy pose, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched Ezra. “Being as you are new to this world, you may find them helpful. Many of them were written during my earlier years as I explored Elisium. You’ll find one or two that were written about the creation of the mortal realm. Or, at least when my siblings and I used it as our playground.”

If it hadn’t been obvious before, it certainly was now.

Agni was _old._

Ezra turned back and grinned. “Just how old are you?”

Instead of returning Ezra’s playful mocking with his own taunt, Agni’s expression turned tense.

Ezra immediately jumped on him. “You’ve been unpleasant since our visit with Yamuna. Usually _I’m_ the one who doesn’t want to talk about things. Now I see why it drives you mad.” He paused and Agni continued to watch him. “It’s about not being counterparts, isn’t it?”

The expression Agni revealed was impressively blank. “I believe I know why Skanda was killed.”

Well…

Ezra hadn’t expected that.

“I never understood why,” Agni continued. “The war with Yama had concluded. Skanda’s involvement was a well-known secret but never confirmed openly. Initially, I had believed the perpetrators were comrades from Indra’s army who’d lost loved ones in the altercation with Yama. They chose to extract revenge in the only way they knew how.”

Ezra slowly moved toward the table. “What made you reconsider that as a possibility?”

The God of Fire watched his approach. “It takes a great deal of effort to bring down Skanda. He’s as fierce as I am in battle. While Indra has immensely impressive warriors within his ranks, no one could have touched Skanda.”

Ezra reached the table and leaned next to Agni. “You believe there were more than just the—the ones you saw…”

_Eating him._

Agni turned his head, his expression drawn harshly into both anguish and anger. Ezra watched, partly fascinated. He was able to count on one hand how often Agni had revealed open vulnerability. He moved closer, pressing his side against Agni’s and offering a semblance of comfort. A muscle protruded along Agni’s sharp jawline, indicating his restrained anger.

“There had to have been.” Agni pressed back against Ezra, acknowledging and accepting the solace. “I haven’t been able to find the ones responsible, but there had to be a more powerful god or goddess behind the attack. What troubles me the most, however, is the reason he was targeted. During our reunion back in Concordia, I had asked what he remembered before his death.”

Ezra kept his attention focused keenly on Agni’s averted face, sensing the disquiet from the Fire God.

“He claimed he was in Naraka.”

Already on edge with the direction of the conversation, Ezra recalled the spear’s memories. “But you found him in Elisium.”

“They must have followed him.” Agni’s tone was clipped. Short. “Just now, the only thing he could remember was being chased. He said he was carrying something small. Soft. Alive. And he recalled burying it in the snow.” Red-orange eyes suddenly turned and found Ezra’s. “Yamuna claimed Yama had trusted someone enough to retrieve your slumbering wolf form and place you by the wards.”

Ezra pushed off from the table, aghast. “ _I_ was the reason for his death?”

This was why Agni had been acting strangely, wasn’t it?

Ezra felt violently ill.

And then, suddenly, he felt nothing at all.

Agni straightened quickly to his full height and took a step closer to Ezra. “Don’t be so foolish. The fault lies with Yama for putting Skanda in that position. The fault lies with Skanda for trusting Yama enough to do his bidding. And the fault lies with whoever was responsible for Skanda’s execution.” Undoubtedly sensing Ezra’s distress, his hand encircled Ezra’s wrist. “What concerns me is that you were being targeted—watched. For whatever reason, someone did not want you to be awakened.”

The fingers were tight around his wrist, pressing the bones together with crushing persistence. 

“If Skanda can recall what transpired before his death, we can begin to pinpoint several mysteries behind your creation.” Agni paused and considered Ezra’s silent and aloof form. “We must also discuss Naraka and the Last War—”

“I think I’ve had all the revelations I can handle for the day,” Ezra interrupted tightly. “We can formulate theories tomorrow.”

He sidled closer to Agni. The god responded to his subconscious desire for support by placing a firm hand at the small of his back and urging Ezra flush against him. As the blanket of resiliency enveloped him, Ezra set his forehead onto the god’s shoulder, feeling the hand suddenly claw possessively at his back. His stomach coiled with the beginnings of pleasure—something he readily welcomed as distraction—before pressing closer and inhaling the Fire God’s scent.

His hands found Agni’s abdomen, sliding his fingers up the muscles that clenched noticeably from his touch. As he looked up, Agni was quick to ensnare his gaze, staring down at him with the intensity he always reserved for Ezra.

Pressing his lips against Agni’s jawline, Ezra began to nibble, maintaining taunting eye contact all the while.

Agni quickly rewarded him by ducking his head and pressing their lips together.

The frantic kiss was enough to chase away the numbness of today and revive him. 

And Ezra—elated he no longer felt the peculiar distance between them—turned hungry. He framed Agni’s face between his hands, pulling the god down further and deepening the kiss. He parted his mouth, readily inviting Agni’s tongue inside before engaging it with his own. Agni’s hands were just as frenzied as his kiss, clutching first at Ezra’s waist, then finding his hair, before sliding down between the lapels of his jacket and pushing the garment off one shoulder.

Ezra bit Agni’s tongue, dropping his hand and finding Agni’s interested erection between them. He palmed it and it reacted favorably, growing heavier and firmer.

 _God,_ Ezra had missed it.

Even if they had misunderstandings at times, the high intensity attraction would always remain familiar.

And that’s what Ezra needed right now.

Agni backed him against the table before separating their mouths and roughly turning Ezra around. Ezra was then forced to bend across the table, his elevated hips immediately being covered by Agni’s groin. A domineering hand raked through his hair, pulling at the roots before abruptly shoving his head down onto the table. Ezra moaned favorably as Agni mercilessly held him down and rocked into him.

“Fuck me.” Ezra groaned into the table. He needed this. So bad. He needed Agni. “ _Agni—_ ”

Agni’s heavy weight was immediately gone.

Ezra’s eyes widened comically, his erection pulsating uncomfortably against the table. “What the _fuck_.” He scrambled up from the table, immediately finding Agni several feet away from the table, watching him impassively. “Are you—rejecting me? Again?”

“I need it as badly as you do.”

“I hardly think so, not if you have the capability of pulling away at a time like that.” Ezra ran a shaky hand through his hair, feeling the turmoil from earlier rise back up and nearly suffocate him. 

And then he realized what he’d just done.

He immediately felt foolish.

“I apologize.” Upon Ezra’s apology, Agni cocked his head, a few strands of his disheveled hair falling from the knot at the nape of his neck. Ezra settled on top of the table, his legs hanging uselessly over the edge. “You just had to recreate Skanda’s death. And here I am forcing you to have sex immediately after.”

“This has nothing to do with Skanda, nor could you ever ‘force’ me to do anything.”

Ezra’s chest constricted upon Agni’s confession. He looked up slowly, feeling a cold anger settle. “Your touches have been distant and cautious ever since my rebirth into a god, and you have turned me down several times since my arrival here. Will you stop skirting around the issue and tell me?”

Agni answer was controlled. “I am postponing it until our wedding.”

Ezra’s anger immediately deflated. “Wedding,” he repeated dumbly.

“Chastity—”

“I am not a virgin,” Ezra interrupted chillingly, his anger reinflating when everything began to make sense.

Agni stared at him, clearly unimpressed with his proclamation. “You are. Your body is pure.” The god stood a distance away, watching Ezra’s simmering form knowingly. “It is part of the courtship ritual I have chosen for us before the ceremony, as well, it is an age-old tradition among the deities that I respect.”

Instead of asking Agni about the ritual—instead of inquiring about the traditions of old—Ezra harnessed his frustrations and only kindled the situation. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Agni’s face darkened before it completely cleared of emotion.

Ezra leaped off the table, feeling a pang of guilt for criticizing Agni’s traditions, but far too upset to relent. “I am the furthest thing from a virgin. You know this. _You’ve_ used me several times.” The stare he was receiving was growing brighter and Agni remained silently and scarily impassive. “This isn’t your relationship, Agni. It’s ours. I didn’t agree to this arrangement—”

“You did,” came the brusque reply.

Ezra inhaled deeply and slowly approached Agni’s rigid form. “I agreed to the engagement. I did not know what kind of courtship you had planned. It would have been appreciated if you’d explained what I should expect. It was as if you were hiding things again,” he accused. “You knew I wouldn’t agree with the decision, so you assumed you could get by with—with what? Some rutting? Handjobs? Hoping I wouldn’t notice until the wedding? Which—considering you are so on top of planning yourself—must be just around the corner. Will I be invited?”

Utterly unphased with the sarcasm, Agni’s reply was remarkably cold. “Someone had to take the initiative. You don’t seem invested.”

The derision in Agni’s tone took Ezra by surprise. Did Agni truly believe Ezra had no interest in their relationship? He prowled closer. “I’m not the one pulling away,” he informed lowly. “I’m not the one denying intimacy. I’m certainly not the one who withdrew completely upon the revelation that we are not counterparts.”

Agni’s jaw clenched. “Do you truly believe _I_ put any weight on being counterparts?”

“I think it meant something to you.” He drew parallel with Agni and waited for the god to give some sort of explanation. 

When the God of Fire simply watched him back, Ezra moved past him and toward the exit.

*** * * ***

Anxiety coiled uncomfortably inside his stomach, causing his face to flush hotly and his body to tremor. Ezra focused on the book in front of him, trying to ignore his body’s reactions to the stress of these past few days. _Months, more like_. Oddly enough, despite the day’s assault of new information, his main focus was on Agni and their relationship.

It had been going well until their visit with Yamuna.

Ezra could feign nonchalance over the situation, but he felt off-kilter when they were at odds. Despite Agni claiming he did not hold any weight to being counterparts, _something_ had bothered him about it. Ezra couldn’t fathom Agni caring about something so contrived. What was bothering Agni had to be something Ezra hadn’t concluded yet, something that Agni did not feel comfortable talking about.

The answer came to Ezra quickly. Feelings. His own feelings. Agni was happy to talk endlessly about Ezra’s feelings, but he would undoubtedly feel inclined not to comment on his own.

Agni couldn’t be insecure about their relationship, could he?

_“Someone had to take the initiative. You don’t seem invested.”_

Ezra tapped his thumbs against the pages of the book, finding the possibility almost comical. Agni not having the utmost confidence that he had Ezra ensnared completely?

Of course not.

This was Agni.

Had Ezra not demonstrated his feelings for Agni? He believed he had...especially during the palace attack, yet Agni was alluding to the inability to read his affections. Even so, even if there was the slightest chance that Agni was questioning how Ezra felt about their relationship, Ezra had only made it worse by criticizing their courtship and indicating he thought it—

Ridiculous.

Yes, that’s exactly what he’d said.

Ezra looked back down at the textbook, smoothing over the worn pages. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps Agni just felt trapped now that Ezra was no longer his other half. Why else would he have entered a relationship with someone so young? Someone who did not understand his past, someone who did not respect his _traditions_ or the god realm in general? 

Someone who was not his design...

Regardless of the reasons, Ezra was still furious with Agni’s chastity decision.

He sat up straighter, willing his mind to focus on something more productive. He had returned to the library several hours later with Skanda in tow, having asked the Syphon for assistance in finding him a book on spirit animals. If Skanda had realized there was tension between his father and Ezra, he had made no comment and diligently searched through the shelves, finding a book that was not in Sanskrit. 

Now alone, he tried to deescalate and find information on Rudra’s spirit animal, which, coincidentally enough, was also the form Naraka took.

_Or uncoincidentally._

He’d wanted to discuss the possibility of Rudra’s apparition with Agni. He’d wanted to train with Agni. He’d wanted to learn how to look down into the mortal realm with Agni.

Instead he was reading about _animals._

Flipping a bit too violently through the pages, he slowed when he came across an animal he had never seen before but immediately became drawn to. It resembled a large black cat with rounded ears, a strong muzzle, and a powerful body. _Black_ _Panther._ Ezra raised his eyebrows, mourning the lost opportunity of mortals for not experiencing such a majestic animal. He was eager to show it to Kai.

Skimming through the text, he read through the characteristics of the animal.

 _The Mother._ He stopped at that, recalling the times Edlen had called him a ‘mother’ for his overprotective tendencies toward the team. _Protection. Ability to perceive things clearly. Beauty. Grace._

_Death. Rebirth._

_Loner. Connection to those who are likewise solitary. Strength. Repossession of power, and capability of knowing the dark. Leadership. Aggression. Sensuality._ He looked once more at the illustrations, noting the second depicted the panther leaping midair, whereas the third panther was lounging in a tree with a remarkable sense of smugness. They had a sharp keenness in their eyes, a keenness Ezra always saw in Agni’s eyes.

They were eyes belonging to a predator.

Lingering on the page for a while longer, Ezra flipped through the book until he came across the wolf. Immediately, he focused on the black wolf within the pack of other wolves. It was still difficult to wrap his mind around having a different father—one that was just as elusive from Ezra’s reach as Calder.

If Calder could even be considered his father—

Pushing that sentimental thought away, he refocused on the text.

As he read through the description, some of the characteristics conflicted with what he associated with Rudra. _Unaggressive unless provoked or challenged. Sympathetic to autonomy. Accomplished with strong communication skills. Family orientated._ And then there were other characteristics that were unsurprising. _Predatory in nature. A great warrior. Confident. Cunning. Territorial. Enigmatic._

Ezra leaned back in his chair.

Researching the wolf hadn’t helped as much as he had imagined it would. Why was Naraka parading around as a wolf? Why was that apparition of Rudra—if it had indeed been Rudra—lingering in the lower levels of Naraka? Had it been his spirit? Had it been one of Naraka’s illusions? The apparition had wanted to show Ezra the city caved between two walls of stone.

Recalling the city, Ezra could almost hear the faint, resonating voices.

Right now.

In this room.

Uncanny chills raced across his arms and the library appeared to drop in temperature. Ezra straightened quickly from the chair, a wave of dizziness washing over him before everything faded into black.

_Naraka’s reach was growing familiar by now._

_What was once foreign and almost sinister with its power now seemed tolerable. It was how Ezra was able to identify the strange echoes of things that did not belong in the underworld. Something had taken root. Bleeding the soils with wicked and malevolent taint. The hate was smothering the air—creating a decayed staleness as if readying itself for a reckoning._

_Entwined with Naraka, Ezra saw flashes of the realm, flashes of the creatures. He saw the familiar red-gold wards surrounding the imprisoned Syphons and daemons. There were peculiar black veins across the wards, branching off in spidery tendrils. They pulsated urgently and the realm seemed to shudder with each beat._ Take care of this, now, _was the general impression Ezra got from Naraka’s persistence._

_They then hovered across a long, spindly black river. The water appeared to be sloshing against the banks, overflowing the riverbeds and flooding the sparse forest of trees. Ezra remembered being there before with Dhumavati. Hands emerged from the waters, reaching toward him with desperate and determined need. Above, the moon took on a sleepy presence, waning into a crescent and smiling unnervingly down at him._

_Descending, Ezra passed the levels of mortal hell with dizzying speed before he found himself standing at the rocky ledge—Yama’s ledge._

_He stood over the steep drop, staring into the bottomless darkness before looking toward the collapsed city. Only, it wasn’t collapsed. Not yet. It was standing upright, having a solid ground to support itself. However, any sense of normalcy this place may have presented was abruptly destroyed when an earsplitting explosion erupted._

_Fretful faces pressed up against the windows, and hands splayed desperately against the glass as they sensed the approaching doom._

_Suddenly, the ground shuddered violently before caving in._

_The city—along with Ezra—was abruptly plunged into the depths below._

_The freefall was terrifyingly dark, but Ezra could dimly make out a golden glow from far below. As they descended further, the golden object took shape into that of a trident. Bathed in the flood of radiant light, Ezra could discern_ him— _the apparition of Rudra—only this time he appeared worse for wear. He stared up at Ezra and the falling city before raising his trident. With an expression of extreme focus, the god threw down the weapon and embedded it in the stone ground. What resulted was wave after wave of immense power._

_Their descent stopped._

_Stone walls moved and abruptly enclosed around the city, hugging it close._

_The golden trident remained entrenched into the stone, growing darker over time, before it was swallowed entirely by shadow._

Ezra lurched awake.

He looked around in bemusement, not recognizing his surroundings. Gradually, as he peered around, he returned to the present and realized he was still in the parlor. Only, he was on the couch, and he specifically recalled blacking out at the table. Slowly sitting up, he basked in the warmth from the lit fireplace and absorbed what he’d seen.

Whether they had been visions, memories, or warnings, there was one thing Ezra took away from them.

Naraka was in uproar and it was waiting for its master to get his shit together. It was enough to spur Ezra from the couch and roam the bookshelves, looking for anything that may aid him in his tasks. After collecting a few texts, he carried them over to the table. Spilling them onto his workstation, he grabbed a large stack of parchments and turned on the bright lanterns.

He deliberately placed three pieces of parchment in front of him. 

The realm of Syphons and daemons was the first thing Naraka revealed to him. He’d known it was a concern that needed immediate attention, but solving it now proved beyond his capabilities. He needed to know more about the wards. Who had constructed them? How could they be dismantled? But most importantly, Ezra needed to devise a way to control the Syphons who’d undoubtedly be hungry—and vengeful—upon waking. 

His pen hovered over the blank parchment before he wrote _‘Keepers’._ They controlled the Essences. From what Agni had indicated, they used it to create the deities. Was there a possibility they held the answer to feeding a Syphon?

Underlining ‘ _Keepers’_ twice, he moved that parchment aside before grabbing another. His other concern was the collapsed city—another problem that would need to wait until he received answers to the origins of the city. But as he deliberated the vision, the more he began to speculate that Naraka hadn’t wanted to show him the city specifically, but rather—

He wrote down _‘Trishula’._

Rudra’s trident. 

When Ezra had lingered in the level of the collapsed city, he had sensed the ghosts. There had been no living creature dwelling within the city. Whatever vision he’d witnessed was likely an evocation of previous events. Rudra had saved a city, and dwelling in the depths below was his Astra. 

He moved aside the second parchment and focused on the only issue he could resolve without further investigating. At the top of the third parchment, he wrote—

_‘Mortal Souls’_

_“You don’t like the way things are done in Naraka? Then you change it. You_ are _Death.”_

Not only Death, but the Master of Naraka, able to manipulate his surroundings. Agni’s matter-of-fact comment was what spurred Ezra to begin revamping the mortal purgatories first. It was almost as if he were doing renovations—like the renovations Agni had created for him to be comfortable and content in his new home.

Ezra stilled at that thought before continuing to write elegantly across the parchments.

Without a proper purgatory in place, he could not judge souls. Without the ability to judge souls, the river— _Vaitarna_ —would flood. And Ezra distinctively recalled Yama—or Naraka at that point—mention the possibility of souls emerging from the water and becoming creatures like Pretas, Lost Sages, or Bhutas—whatever the last two were.

That was the last thing Ezra wanted.

To take away a mortal soul’s last chance of rest and peace after a lifetime of struggle.

Finally discovering a new sense of purpose and focus, Ezra worked diligently on his new vision of Naraka. He might not have based it off religion, but he liked to believe he had a good sense of judgement when it came to morals.

That was when Chitragupta found him.

The Syphon appeared at Ezra’s side like a ghost, silently observing him for a time. Ezra continued on writing, crossing out several paragraphs before resuming on a new thought.

“Are you well?” Chit inquired cautiously.

“Just fine.”

“You’ve been in here for quite some time. Missed Skanda’s training session…” Chit trailed off and moved aside an open textbook, flipping it over to the cover. “Spirit animals.” He flipped it back to the page that had been open. “Wolves. Studying up on your sire?”

Ezra’s eyes flickered over to the Syphon. It appeared as if everyone were inclined to mention Ezra’s parentage now that he knew of it himself. Just how long had they all known? “I was trying to understand why Naraka takes on the form of a wolf.” He detected the small, downward twitch of Chit’s mouth. “Did you never see it take on that form—or any form?”

“Never. Yama never mentioned anything either. It was sentient, but not _that_ sentient.” He moved aside the book and stalked the perimeter of the table. “Don’t you have a party to prepare for?”

After straightening the kinks in his back, Ezra hunched back over his parchment. “I am not going. Too many things to do.”

Chit peered across the strewn papers. “I can see that.” He watched Ezra scratch his fountain pen across the page, looking distastefully at the ink stains across his skin. “But are you sure you’re not just sulking and avoiding Agni?”

Ezra glanced suspiciously up at Chit. “Were you eavesdropping again—”

“You only ever mope when you’re at odds with Agni.”

“I am not—”

“You and I both know he’s probably the one at fault,” Chitragupta interrupted again. “Best way to snap Agni from whatever ancient, melodramatic stupor he’s found himself in is by pushing his boundaries.” The Syphon suddenly jumped up on to the table, scattering the books and papers and creating a mess. “Here, he’s in control. But out there? You’re the attractive, confident, and mysterious new god. Dangle yourself in front of the deities at Indra’s celebration, and I guarantee Agni will be making amends by the night’s end.” 

“I am not petty.”

Chitragupta raised his eyebrows and conveyed his skepticism.

“I am not _that_ petty,” Ezra corrected. “Agni clearly has things he needs to work out. I’ve come to terms with that. He’ll approach me when he’s ready.” He sighed as Chit pressed his hand against one of the parchments, smearing the new ink. “I had wanted to go over some of this with you.”

“You still can. But we need to get you ready for this celebration.” Chit smirked. “I’m afraid your stiff, aristocratic jackets you love so much will not be acceptable for a godly celebration. Far too much fabric and not enough skin. You’ll need help picking out what to wear, and what jewelry.” He read Ezra’s complete lack of enthusiasm. “If you don’t want to do this to irritate Agni, do it for the allies. You’ll undoubtedly meet several new potential comrades.”

Ezra looked back down at his notes, disinterested.

“It’s only for one evening, Ezra. It is _your_ celebration. It would be in bad taste not to show.”

“You would know…”

“Yes, and you can ask me all about my family as we’re getting you ready.”

Ezra looked slowly up at the Syphon. “That’s surprising,” he started dryly, “considering you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

“I needed to work out a few things before I approached you,” Chit said dismissively, using Ezra’s earlier words about Agni.

Attending the celebration was the last thing he wanted to do. Not when he and Agni were at odds. Not when he had so much to accomplish. The sense of trepidation he’d felt in Naraka indicated he did not have the luxury to gradually ease into his new position as Reaper. Things needed to begin changing and they needed to begin now.

Nevertheless...

He _did_ need to speak with Indra.

“Fine.”

Chitragupta’s vindictive smile already made Ezra regret his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** Valli is not normally acknowledged as Vishnu and Lakshmi's daughter in Hindu mythology (aside from one account). I have taken the liberty to make her their child for Immunity, which is why I caution everyone from Googling ;-) I don't want you to be confused.
> 
> Also-- there is a very strong possibility the next chapter may take longer than two weeks to get out. I will be busy next weekend, and this weekend isn't looking promising to get any writing done either 😓 Plus, I think a lot of you are looking forward to these next few chapters and I want them to be perfect! 
> 
> ♥


	19. The Bitter Taste of Melancholy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Heavily visited topic of suicide. Also, overexaggerated descriptions of clothing (just for you guys on Discord, I typically can’t stand describing clothes 😂). 
> 
> And a HUGE thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for looking over this chapter! ♥

  1. **The Bitter Taste of Melancholy**



Ezra’s back was rod straight as he watched Chitragupta rummage through his closet. He pointedly ignored the room to his left—the room he shared with Agni—which was full of jewelry and other unpleasant accessories. Nonetheless, despite his insistence on not thinking about it, he couldn’t help but recall the brief argument he and Agni had shared over the jewelry.

Whether it be to display rank or marital status, wearing jewelry was an important custom here.

Ezra had criticized the practice and Agni had been affronted.

Just as he’d been when Ezra had criticized their consort ritual.

Staring listlessly ahead, Ezra acknowledged his ignorance. He had strong opinions. And clearly, those opinions shouldn’t be voiced unless he had the proper background knowledge. Something as simple as _virginity_ or _jewelry_ did not represent the same thing here as it did in the mortal realm. They had their own histories, their own significance.

“You’re awfully silent,” Chit observed as he moved aside another jacket. “Well—” he hastily corrected himself, “more silent than usual.”

“I am merely trying to wrap my head around these godly traditions that I know nothing about.”

Chit glanced over his shoulder at Ezra, his eyes bright with intrigue. “Any tradition in particular?”

Ezra’s expression shuttered and his spine stiffened further. “No.”

Chit made a sound in his throat before turning back around.

A comfortable silence stretched between the two, and Ezra’s attention drifted to the faint stirrings in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, hearing an accumulation of indistinct murmurings growing more distinct as he focused on them. His ears pricked and his senses spasmed each time he heard his name.

_“Ezra.”_

His brows furrowed with an ugly emotion, knowing the murmurings belonged to those in the mortal realm. He’d heard them before—his scalp oftentimes prickling with awareness of others speaking of him yet never _directly_ to him. They were not as clear and distinct as Sachiel’s address had been the very first night of Ezra’s stay in Elisium. 

This was his fourth day in Elisium. A quick mental math told him that a little over a month had passed in the mortal realm. He was itching to pay them a visit. He was itching to look down on them. He was itching to learn of the mortal realm’s recovery from housing the God of Death for so long.

He was itching to accomplish a great deal of things, truly.

A celebration was the furthest thing from his mind. 

Refocusing on Chit, Ezra contemplated the Syphon’s turned back. “You were going to tell me about your family—your past.” He let that statement linger long enough for Chit to fill the silence. He did not. “Why didn’t you tell me you were Indra’s son? Or Yama and Yamuna’s cousin, for that matter?”

“It was never a convenient time.”

Ezra’s lids lowered with incredulity when Chit glanced back at him. Was Chitragupta now Agni, who left out information merely because it was not a convenient time?

“What was I supposed to say?” Chit asked with amusement. “Oh, by the way, Ezra, the highly conceited god undressing you with his eyes? That’s my dad. Oh, and your predecessor who went a little insane? That was my cousin.” He turned back to the large array of clothes. “It really doesn’t make much difference in the grand scheme of things, does it?”

“Why wouldn’t it make a difference? They’re your family.”

“Were. Were my family.” Chit pulled off a garment from the hanger. While he kept his back turned to Ezra, there was noticeable melancholy and defeat lingering around his shoulders. “To be honest, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think any less of me. I wasn’t ashamed of my family, or my life. I was ashamed of how it ended.”

Ezra shook his head at Chit’s turned back. “I won’t think any less of you.”

“You can’t make that promise,” came the quick retort. “If only because you would have never taken the same path as I had. You wouldn’t have even entertained the possibility.” Chit turned toward Ezra and offered a semblance of a smile. “You’re a fighter and I was a coward.”

Ezra shifted uncomfortably, having a good idea what Chit was alluding to. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? Tell me about your family.”

That seemed to liven Chit up—if only a little. He leaned against a shelf and his gaze turned distant. Fond.

“You’d never believe me, but Indra was an affectionate father. And my mother—my mother…” He trailed off and struggled to maintain composure. His expression creased briefly before soothing over with indifference. “She is _the_ matriarch of all matriarchs. Queen Shachi. The Goddess of Beauty, Jealousy, and Rage. She was just as affectionate as Indra was with her children, but sterner. She made the decisions when it came to the household and Indra supported her.”

“Children,” Ezra repeated back with interest. “There are more of you?”

Chit grinned. “Don’t get too excited. There can only be one of me.”

“Excited? I was absolutely terrified of the possibility.” 

The Syphon pouted. “They _aspired_ to be me, but of course their attempts were futile.” His mirth withered. “I was the third of four. My parents had twins first.” His eyes dropped to hide their expression. “Jayanti—my sister. And Jayanta—my brother. And then my younger sister, Teyvanai.”

Evidently, there were many little-Indra’s running around. Ezra didn’t know what he felt about that, though Chit was beginning to paint the picture of a domesticated Indra who obeyed his wife’s household rulings. Briefly, he wondered if goddesses governed their households in Elisium. It would be a refreshing change from Concordia’s social constructions and more align with the Igni family traditions.

Regardless of whether it was a custom or not, for Indra to give up control was astonishing.

Ezra had assumed Indra needed to control every facet of his existence.

“We were all minor goddesses and gods,” Chit continued. “You would think my parents—being as reputable as they are—would be a bit disappointed in that fact. But I never gleaned any sort of discontent from them. Ever. After all, there are many accomplished minor deities in our realm, but most of the exalted ones are either warriors or advisors.”

“You mentioned Indra wanted you to be a warrior.”

“Oh yes.” Chit laughed once. “It was an honorable rite of passage for deities of my father’s era. Being a warrior was expected and it was something to be especially proud of. The better you were, the more supremacy you carried over others.” He paused. “My older brother—Jayanta—was a formidable warrior. I would almost say he would have given Skanda good competition.”

Ezra immediately noted the past tense.

Evidently, Indra and Shachi had lost not one son—but two.

“And when Agni and Svaha conceived Kartikeya, the God of War…” Chit trailed off with an overexaggerated look of awe. “Agni immediately became the envy of many of the ancient gods, and Indra was very eager to show he had more than one child capable of surpassing expectations.”

“What of your sisters?”

“Goddesses generally don’t favor paths as warriors. Not out of any sort of oppression or chauvinism—like in the mortal realm—but out of a traditional distaste for the battle scene. Although there _are_ some scarily impressive goddess warriors. Like Ushas and her sister, Ratri. The Goddesses of Dawn and Night. I’d wager they could keep up with nearly anyone. And while my sisters are both decent warriors, they aren’t good enough to challenge Agni’s fledgling.” 

Ezra collected the information for later. “And you told Indra you weren’t interested.”

Chit nodded. “I learned how to defend myself, but I didn’t strive for more. He was disappointed, albeit receptive of my scholarly pursuits. And while he was careful never to demonstrate blatant favoritism, I knew Jayanta was his pride and joy.”

And that’s where the story stopped.

Ezra surveyed Chit closely, perceiving the discomfort returning and having a very good idea where the rest of the story led. “Jayanta died,” he guessed quietly and watched as Chit bowed his head. “Was it because of Yama?”

“Because of me.”

Ezra sat motionlessly for a time, determining the best way to proceed.

It turned out he did not have to devise a way to pry the information from Chit. The Syphon looked up and his gaze was exhausted. “I couldn’t pick a side. I was torn between a duty I felt so strongly about and Indra. As Justice’s Hand—as Death’s Hand—I finally found someplace where I belonged. I loved what I was doing. It was as if I were made for that position.”

Ezra curled his gloved hand into a fist, feeling the skeletal joints click.

_Now was not the time._

“I supported Yama’s ideals. Not only did he work tirelessly to improve Naraka for both the creatures and mortal souls alike, he also endeavored to induce balance—something we haven’t had in centuries. Yama and I got along, and we got along very well.” He paused. “Until the end. And even then, there was a small hope—and I believe his other allies shared this hope—that he would regain his sensibilities, though it only worsened.”

“An understandable sentiment.”

“I was supposed to take the side of my family, shouldn’t I have?”

“Yama _was_ your family,” Ezra pointed out. “And it sounds as if the rest of his family abandoned him. It is easy to proclaim Yama the villain, but I know you. And I know Skanda. Until he went completely senseless, Yama had represented change. And change, as you know, is a catalyst to unrest and fear. He immediately became a force that was essential to suppress. One to be shunned.”

Chitragupta pushed off from the shelves and slowly approached Ezra.

“ _Yes,_ ” he breathed. “You remind me so much of him during his earlier reign, Ezra. I know Yama struggled as Reaper. He discovered things—secrets—that he never spoke of. If he hadn’t deteriorated, I firmly believe he could have prevailed.”

Ezra recalled what Yamuna had said.

_“Yama was destined to fail from the very start.”_

He didn’t know what force was responsible for pushing Yama over the edge. Whether it be the voices of Naraka, Naraka specifically, or the Syphon’s creation—something had destroyed Yama’s sanity.

“I assume you ended up supporting Yama?”

“No.” Chit ran an agitated hand through his short locks. “I continued to play in between. Yama wanted me to spy on Indra. Indra wanted me to spy on Yama. It worked, for a time. It was almost…fun. I’d deliver very menial, sometimes incorrect information to both parties in order to avoid confrontation. Meanwhile, I tried to reason with both Indra and Yama, hoping to stop things from escalating.”

He had a sense this was the first time Chitragupta had spoken about what had happened. Or, at the very least, it was still so raw that he was looking for either validation or reproach.

“A very difficult position,” Ezra observed. “A valiant attempt to keep both sides content and safe, yet it never succeeds in the end.”

“No,” Chit’s voice was hollow. “It doesn’t. In fact, it turned out horribly wrong. My brother had planned a sabotage on one of Naraka’s levels, hoping to weaken Naraka from the bottom up. I had told Yama of my brother’s plans, but I intentionally told him the wrong location and time of attack. I hadn’t realized it at that time, but Yama had figured out I was spying on him for Indra, and he grew rightfully resentful over the betrayal.”

“And Yama figured out your brother’s true plans?”

Chit nodded, appearing dejected. “This was before Surya and Tvastr created defenses against the Syphons. From what I was told, Yama’s Syphons surrounded Jayanta and his warriors.” Pale brows drew together. “He was the last to fall. And they consumed him whole. No part of him survived to be reborn into a Syphon.” Chit’s gaze dimmed. “Yama told Indra that I was the one to tell him of Jayanta’s plans. It was then I realized the old Yama was no longer returning.

“Both sides were no longer an option for me and I had my brother’s blood on my hands.” Chit pressed his lips together and shakily exhaled through his nose. “I couldn’t live with that, Ezra.”

“You didn’t speak with Indra?”

“What was there to say? That I spied on him for Yama? That I was directly responsible for the death of his favorite son?” Chit laughed once. “I was a coward for not choosing a side. And by that fault, I decided to die like a coward.”

He suddenly looked at Ezra, desperate in his silent plea not to have to say it aloud.

Ezra stood from his stool. “Agni said the Keepers had your Essence on reserve, which is normally not done for minor gods. They do not recreate gods or goddesses who did not represent a specific platform.”

“I thought there was _something_ about my Essence that gave me the ability to be such a good assistant to the Reaper. I asked the Keepers to extract it and retain it for Yama’s next aide. Only, Yama never had the opportunity to get another assistant, and the Keepers never had a reason to create another Justice’s Hand without a Reaper.”

“How did others know that your Essence was with the Keepers?” Ezra asked. “You must have told someone.”

 _Someone_ must have known Chitragupta’s plans and had been unsuccessful in stopping him.

Chit gave a lifeless shrug. “I wrote both Yama and Ashvin before—well… he was the god who treated your battle wounds after—”

“I know who Ashvin is,” Ezra interrupted quietly. He took a slow step forward. “He was Yama’s brother and your cousin. He probably relayed to Indra what your letter said. And Indra…” he trailed off and looked at the stiff and withdrawn figure of Chit. “No matter what you believe, Chit, you heard Agni. Your father refused to have another carry your Essence.”

Chit slowly looked up at Ezra. “That may be so, but he still detests Syphons. He still detests _me_.” He peered closely at Ezra, appearing uncomfortably vulnerable. “But my father isn’t my concern right now. I need to know what _you’re_ thinking.”

Ezra frowned. “Why would you think my perceptions of you have changed?”

“It’s difficult to discern what you’re thinking, especially when you’re faced with something that involves a lot of emotion. You close up.”

It nearly took Ezra by surprise—the sudden correlation between Chitragupta and Agni. Both had exposed a vulnerable side of themselves, and yet Ezra hadn’t been affable enough to reassure them of their doubts. He may be at a loss of how to confront the issue with Agni—who was just as incapable of conveying emotion as he was—but right now, Chitragupta was looking for validation on an issue he felt immense shame over.

A strong sense of protectiveness washed through Ezra.

Clearly uncomfortable with Ezra’s silence, Chitragupta pressed on. “I know suicide—”

Ezra stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

The Syphon appeared a bit startled at the physical contact.

“You claim I would have never taken the same path, yet neither you nor I can make that assumption unless I’ve lived through your experiences. You lost your family and you lost the cause you had so passionately supported.” He tightened his grip. “You were trapped and you sought an escape. I do not see you any differently for succeeding in that escape, Chit. But I am glad you have a second chance to finish what you’ve started.”

He dropped his hand quickly and averted his eyes from Chit’s growing smile. 

“Don’t you have an outfit to—”

Cold lips pressed firmly against his cheek and Ezra refocused sharply on Chit.

“You are _endearing,_ Reaper.” Chit turned away from Ezra’s unimpressed stare and all but cavorted away. “Underneath all that armor, you are especially affectionate with your favorites, aren’t you?” He patted the stool, paying no heed to the darkening expression across Ezra’s face. “Come. Let us do something about that wayward hair of yours.”

Debating whether to address Chitragupta’s absurd accusations or let it go entirely, Ezra decided on the latter. He sat down reluctantly, staring dutifully ahead as Chitragupta poured something on his hands from the nearby dressing vanity. Eager, cold fingers worked a product through his hair that smelt strongly of something Agni would use.

Ezra’s lashes lowered with exasperation as the source of his frustrations entered the room to his left.

“I don’t see anything remotely acceptable to wear,” Chitragupta was quick to reprimand Agni. “It’s all jackets or sherwanis. I’m beginning to think it was intentional on your part.” To Ezra, he quietly murmured, _“Brahma knows we wouldn’t want you flashing your collarbone to others.”_

Agni moved into Ezra’s line of vision. He was focused on the article of clothing Chitragupta had pulled out earlier. He pinched the fabric and held it out for Ezra to see. “Yet you somehow managed to find one of the few articles of clothing that did not fit that criteria.”

Ezra eyed the sheer black blouse. It had a plunging neckline—nearly to the navel. “Where is the rest of it?”

Agni gave a pointed look at Chitragupta, his smug victory especially quiet as he replaced the blouse back on its hanger. “The clothes were intended to cater to Ezra’s preferences and comfort levels while still adhering to the current fashion. Should he want to parade around like your cousin and go pantless, we will certainly make adjustments to his wardrobe.”

Ezra grimaced as he recalled Ashvin’s exposed legs. “By that point, I may as well go nude,” he murmured as Chit pushed his head down rather forcibly.

“Many of the outfits have a heavy mortal influence,” Chit remarked petulantly.

Ezra had observed the same thing.

When he had looked through the wardrobe, he had noticed the careful and incredibly handsome blend of Igni and Unda designs. Many of the sherwanis were far shapelier than the typical sherwanis in the mortal realm, their designs unique and cut both modernly and risqué. Whereas the jackets weren’t quite as unassuming or constricted as what the Unda aristocrats wore. The colors were bolder, the patterns Igni-like, and the overall appearance far more dramatic.

There were also a lot of accessories like belts, ribbons, and sashes that he did not understand how to utilize.

“They do,” Agni responded distractedly as he searched through the wardrobe. “It was intentionally designed to ease Ezra into a new culture.”

Ezra watched his back, sensing the tenseness coiled in the god’s countenance. It could very well be that Agni didn’t know how to proceed with Ezra. Ezra was equally as perplexed. On one hand, he wanted to reassure Agni of their relationship. On the other hand, he wanted to demonstrate his frustrations with Agni for making decisions for the both of them.

Again.

But then the god had to do things like _this._

Designing a whole wardrobe based on what Ezra would feel comfortable with. Or redesigning his home in attempts to cater to Ezra. Or visiting the mortal realm and bringing back treasures from loved ones. Or anchoring Ezra firmly into reality by holding him close during his most vulnerable. Or being patient and indulgent enough to show him things about Elisium that would be new to him.

They were unassuming things—things Agni had done without drawing much attention to them—but they had meant a great deal to Ezra.

Yet Ezra never gave Agni any inclination of the depth of his gratitude.

Agni threw a garment of maroon, gold, and black onto the dresser before stalking over to another alcove that Ezra hadn’t ventured into yet. He came back with a pair of boots that immediately caught Ezra’s attention.

The Fire God threw those onto the pile with a stern look at Ezra. “There are no lifts inside. Don’t get too excited.” He looked at Chit. “Remember the vambraces.” To Ezra, he said, “Warriors wear decorative bracers during social gatherings. I have several you can pick from.”

Ezra gave a nod much to Chitragupta’s chagrin.

He looked up as Agni loomed—as if wanting to say something but deciding against it. He then leaned down and Ezra acted instinctively, welcoming the quick kiss. The lips were firm over his own, pressing into him with intentional resolution. Agni pulled away marginally, eyeing Ezra with ambiguity.

He then retreated from the room.

Behind him, Chitragupta tittered. “You two are—”

“Tell me about your sisters,” Ezra interrupted sharply.

Chitragupta made a noise in the back of his throat and parted Ezra’s hair to the side. “You’re no fun.”

*** * * ***

His conversation with Chitragupta stayed with him well after he and Agni had departed for the palace.

Chit had seemingly recovered from recounting the tragic end to his godly existence in order to speak about his sisters, yet Ezra knew the Syphon was far too burdened by unresolved sentiments to shrug it off entirely. He had seemed uncomfortable about the subject when Ezra attempted to revisit it. He had gone into very little detail about what had transpired after his rebirth into a Syphon, claiming he had stayed well out of the way and Yama had been far too distracted—or entirely uninterested—to hunt him down.

It hadn’t been long after Chit’s death that Yama had been cornered and destroyed by Brahma.

As Ezra and Agni stepped through the portal, they came upon a secluded area of the palace grounds. With no one in the vicinity, Ezra stopped, forcing Agni to stop with him. He could not suppress his curiosity any longer.

“How common is suicide among deities?”

The Fire God seemed entirely unsurprised with the question.

“Incredibly rare.” Agni looked down at Ezra. “Deities are not without mental anguish and suffering, but we are also beings who greatly fear mortality and death. Oftentimes, a deity sleeps in order to heal their fractured psyche; other times, they sleep simply to pass the time. They grow weary of existence and hope that—once they awaken—there will be something that can distract them enough for a time.”

Ezra stared at Agni. Between the words and monotonous tone, Ezra experienced Agni’s exhaustion alongside him. It was deep and profound, and incredibly alarming in its emptiness.

“Regardless of a deity’s reasons for sleeping,” Ezra started, “it sounds like an immortal’s equivalent to mortal suicide.”

Agni’s gaze was distant and Ezra’s found it difficult to look at. “Perhaps you are right.” He refocused on Ezra. “Nevertheless, Yama took away any opportunities of suicide by creating Syphons. There is no escape for us. We are simply reborn in the same eternal existence. Only this time, we lack warmth and are induced to endless hunger.”

Ezra frowned. “You do not consider those who kill themselves nowadays to be committing suicide? What of Chit?”

“Chitragupta sought to punish himself by becoming a Syphon. He vied to destroy all aspects of his previous life as penance for the godly life taken from his brother. If he truly wanted to commit suicide, he would have approached a Syphon or the Reaper and asked to be entirely consumed.” Agni paused. “Instead of putting an end to his pain, he has chosen to live with the constant reminder of his wrongdoings.”

“You make it sound as if becoming a Syphon is worse than death.” His gut wrenched at Agni’s expression. “But how can you think that? What of Skanda? You are reunited with him thanks to Yama creating the Syphons. Even Skanda and Chit believe in Yama’s decision of creating an afterlife for the deities.”

Agni’s smile was small and poignant. “While I am grateful to have Skanda, I am also devastated for him and all that he has lost. For all that he must be reminded of losing.” He looked at Ezra. “Becoming a Syphon is no afterlife. It is a curse to those who want rest and a curse to those who have to see their lives replaced by another.”

Ezra recalled the conversation he had shared with Chit about the very same thing.

Chitragupta had grown adamant that deities rightfully deserved an afterlife, and he’d seemed doubtful Ezra could somehow recreate the Syphon into something more desirable.

He refocused on Agni, curious. “Then what would you consider an ideal afterlife?”

Agni’s expression was eerily blank. “Blissful nothingness. A cease of existence. A time to finally rest.” His eyes softened at Ezra’s stunned expression. “It is a sentiment a mortal would never truly understand. Nor that of a youngling.”

Ezra watched as Agni turned and slowly resumed his advance to the palace. But _gods,_ Agni was in a _mood_. There was no _fire._ There wasn’t that familiar vibrancy that Ezra was familiar with seeing in Agni. Such vigor made interacting with Agni both challenging and entertaining, yet when he was in this state, he came across as—

Untouchable and ancient.

Someone Ezra struggled to relate with.

A gentle breeze entwined between the two gods and pulled at Ezra’s hair and silk sash. He splayed his gloved hand against the layered sash around his torso, feeling unusually empty and uneasy. Agni happened to look back then. Whatever he gleaned from Ezra’s expression softened his own countenance.

“Come here, child.”

Ezra removed his hand from his stomach and cautiously approached the Fire God. He warily observed Agni’s outstretched hand and steadily grew irritable. Just over the god’s shoulder, Ezra caught sight of the sun setting across the ocean. Seeing the glittering body of water reminded Ezra it had only been yesterday when things had been relatively normal.

When Agni had been normal. He wanted that back.

“I can’t don’t this anymore.” He suddenly stopped just inches from Agni’s outstretched hand. “You’re making me uneasy, and I can’t stand our unspoken argument. Can we finish it? Preferably now.”

“Is there an unspoken argument between us?” Agni was the one who closed the distance. “I had assumed the argument had been explicitly addressed and the reconciliation came after a day or two of intentional avoidance.” His gaze dropped to his fingers as they lingered across Ezra’s waist. “At least that’s what I’ve heard from other—more traditional—couples.”

“Agni.” Ezra exhaled with amusement. “There is nothing traditional about us.”

“No. I don’t imagine there is.” There was a note of tenseness in his tone. “Or that there will _ever_ be anything traditional about our relationship.”

Evidently, Agni was thinking of the word ‘traditional’ in a more literal sense. Ezra was unamused. “Stop that. I knew you had more to say in regards to our earlier discussion—”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Argument,” Ezra corrected with frustration. “Arguments are fueled by emotions and reactions. We can have a discussion without it resulting in an argument.”

Golden blond brows drew together and red-orange eyes raised from Ezra’s sash to his face. “When have our opposing views ever been neutral enough to be classified as ‘discussions’ rather than ‘arguments’?”

Ezra pressed his lips together and moved to walk past Agni. “Now you’re being intentionally difficult—”

A strong hand pressed against his stomach, stopping him in midstride and tugging him back to his previous position. Only, Agni now stood marginally behind him and enveloped Ezra from behind. His nose traveled down Ezra’s cheek before his lips pressed against his ear.

“Or maybe I realize I am the one at fault and needed a bit more time to lick my wounds before broaching the topic again.” Agni’s arms tightened around Ezra’s torso. “I’ve had my chance at a traditional engagement and wedding. It is unreasonable to think you would feel the same way about it as I do, especially given your upbringing.”

Ezra made a noise of frustration in his throat. “How can I feel the same way about it—how can I feel _any way_ about it—if you haven’t even _explained_ it to me? We haven’t even discussed it together.”

“Simply because whenever I mention the words ‘engagement’ or ‘wedding’, you react visibly uncomfortable and unenthused.” He wasn’t wrong. “Explaining our traditions or courtships will not change that. I am clearly forcing your hand.” Agni released Ezra and the act seemed weighty with underlying meaning. “I will not mention it again until you are fully onboard to a commitment. Whether that is years or centuries from now, I will be happy to resume where we left off.”

Through his dumbfounded surprise, Ezra realized it was one of the most selfless things Agni had done.

So why did it tear at Ezra’s gut like a blunt and dull blade? Agni abandoning the idea of a wedding and an engagement littered with all sorts of silly traditional rituals…it felt as if the god were abandoning their relationship _._ Despite his complaining, Ezra never realized how much he appreciated Agni’s greedy and all-consuming possessiveness.

He liked Agni making decisions. He liked Agni exerting his control.

Moreover, Ezra liked bucking against him.

But Agni never gave in like this. He never _folded_ with submission. How could Ezra explain this without sounding like a pathetic masochist in need of his sadist? It wasn’t cut as simply as that. There were too many subtleties to their relationship that proved impossible to explain. Agni would think him crazy.

He turned and faced the god head on.

“You’re breaking our engagement?” His question came out a bit raspy and pinched.

Agni watched him closely, a very faint knot of confusion lining his brow. “Not breaking. _Never_ breaking. I am putting it on hold. You already have enough to concern yourself with in Naraka. Half your focus is still on the mortal realm and you still need to adapt in Elisium. You have many things to learn. I do not want you to consider our marriage to be a _burden_.”

“It has to be some sort of reverse psychology,” Ezra murmured quietly. “Is that what this is? Pull it away—deny it—so I’d want it more?”

Agni’s lashes lowered and a small smile crossed his lips. “Not this time, Ezra.”

For once, Ezra was left speechless.

And then came the surge of anger. But before he could put a stop to this silliness with Agni—

“My, my, what an intimate conversation.”

 _Oh my god._ Ezra whirled around and stared incredulously at Indra. “Do you intentionally strive to have the worst possible timing?”

Indra was Chitragupta. Chit was Indra. How had Ezra not seen it before? The two had identical mannerisms.

Indra stood at the top of the stairs in all his royal glory, a gleaming, elaborate silver crown adorning his head tonight.

After a time of observing Agni and Ezra, he raised an eyebrow. “That is often contradictory. I consider my timing impeccable. It is others that may see it as inopportune.” He smoothed a jeweled hand down his knee-length robe before tossing it behind him as he moved elaborately down a stair. “You two are late. Seeing as I have reserved this area for my guest of honor, I knew where to find you.”

“We consider ourselves very fortunate for that,” Agni remarked scathingly.

“Come now, Agni,” Indra ridiculed petulantly. “The guests are very eager to introduce themselves to our new Reaper.” His second eyebrow joined the first in its endeavor toward the hairline. “I can see you two have dressed appropriately for this joyful celebration…” He looked at the dark clothes dressing both Agni and Ezra, his eyes lingering on the latter. “Though it _does_ flatter the figure.”

Agni stepped deliberately in front of Ezra. “We are more than capable of finding our own way inside.”

“Must you be so difficult?” Indra countered. “I am merely escorting my guest inside.”

Ezra glanced down at his outfit, his hands once again going instinctively—self-consciously—to the deep maroon and gold silk sash wrapped several times around his torso. The weight and restriction were new. Though he’d been familiar with the confining vests and stiff jackets of Concordia’s aristocracy, they hadn’t exerted this much pressure around his ribcage.

Chitragupta had tied it too tightly.

A gold ornament decorated each end of the sash, one falling near Ezra’s lower thigh, the other near his hip. Despite Agni proclaiming Chitragupta’s earlier selection as risqué, the Fire God had selected something just as unfamiliar to Ezra.

It was similar to a thin, black jacket with ornate onyx buttons down the middle. The fabric was incredibly soft and light—flexible, too. Despite this, both the collar and shoulders were structured like a military jacket, only, the neckline was deliberately tailored to remain open, extending low to his chest—just above the sash.

Nothing was underneath the jacket but a very thin, thread-like gold body chain. It blended well against his skin, gleaming brightly if the light caught it in the right place. Just near his collarbone, the beginning of Agni’s consort tattoo was also visible.

Agni must have had this outfit recently tailored to fit his new form, for the deep maroon trousers hugged him like a glove. His knee-length boots were black with gold accents and Ezra had transferred his lifts inside, offering him a height that exceeded Agni’s chin. 

He wore a maroon glove on his right hand, the other hand bare and decorated with Chitragupta’s suggested rings. The Syphon had wanted to give him a temporary tattoo across the back of his palm, though Ezra had refuted the idea, wanting to get a feel for the fashion before stepping entirely out of his depth.

Despite the open chest and the sash, he felt remarkably confident in the outfit. It was familiar and practical. The only downside was his lack of back holster, but Agni had insisted he go without a weapon within Indra’s palace.

The soft and flexible fabric aside, Ezra favored the gold vambraces on his forearms belonging to Agni. He had to tighten them quite a bit to fit his forearms, but the laces proved willing to support his smaller stature. His attention flickered down to the heavy metal encasing his forearms, tracing over the engraved tendrils of flames. The patterns were dizzyingly beautiful with an explosion of masculine power and formidability.

He removed his hands from his sash, scolding himself for touching it yet again, before curling his fingers around the vambrace.

Agni wore nearly identical vambraces, though his were charcoal.

A hand to the small of his back jerked Ezra back to the present. Agni escorted him toward Indra and the back entrance to the palace.

It was time, then.

Time to meet the deities of Elisium…

Considering there was no one in their immediate area, the hand digging into his back was exceptionally possessive. Ezra did not mind it, so long as Agni did not make a bigger scene. He discerned the god’s uneasiness and it made his own uneasiness escalate. Walking into the unknown—with a strained relationship with a partner who normally stood so firm at his side—made him feel as if he were endeavoring this by himself.

And while that should have been a familiar experience, he’d grown accustomed to having Agni with him.

All facets of Agni.

Not just his physical presence.

Indra offered a strained smile as they climbed the stairs, his eyes knowing as they observed Agni’s restricting proximity. “Do try to share him tonight, Agni.” He moved aside, stepping in line with Agni as they climbed the remaining stairs. “What do we speak of when the older deities claim resemblance to Lord Rudra?”

“Claim ignorance, Indra. It is something you claim often enough to be proficient in it,” Agni responded neutrally. “Not many are so familiar with Rudra they could identify his son.”

“Yet the resemblance is uncanny.” Indra sneered. “My brothers will all note the similarities. Half the deities welcoming Ezra into their fold will be older than six hundred. The other half will have known Rudra through illustrations. Going in blindly without an agreed upon strategy is unwise. It is clear Rudra wanted him hidden before and after his death. Is it not?”

It was just yesterday Agni claimed Skanda had risked his life to deliver Ezra to the wards of Naraka. Someone had wanted to hunt down Ezra before he had the chance of escaping the confinements of the wolf pup he’d been subjected to sleep within. 

Ezra really hadn’t had time to absorb that revelation.

He hadn’t had much time to absorb a great deal of things, really.

He turned his attention back to Indra. “My parents are Calder Talise and Ember Azeri. Brahma and his Keepers were inclined to recreate the Reaper. That’s all they need to know.”

Agni’s jaw clenched, undoubtedly a sign of his disagreement over Ezra’s insistence of seeing Calder—and not Rudra—as his father. “That may have been an option if your appearance hadn’t changed so drastically,” he explained to Ezra.

Ezra was both amused and perturbed. “Were there that many deities looking down on the mortal realm?”

“You were the source of great curiosity to those who wanted to know the identity of Agni’s counterpart.” Indra’s tone grew warily amused at the last bit—undoubtedly having reached the same conclusion as Agni and Ezra had about their counterpart status. “Later, you were the source of curiosity to those who wanted to know their next Reaper.”

They moved through several dimly lit corridors. The elaborate lanterns mounted on the marble walls emitted a bright unflickering light that couldn't possibly be fire. Ezra assumed Indra would want to remove as many sources of fire as possible, if only to guarantee there were no opportunities for a specific eavesdropper.

He heard thundering drums up ahead, immediately becoming intrigued with the tempo and the rhythm.

His pulse began to race the closer they approached the commotion.

“I say we do not deny their allegations of Rudra being my sire.” Ezra looked to Indra and Agni. “It’s as you said. I resemble him to the point of it being painstakingly obvious. Those who Rudra tried to keep my existence from will undoubtedly make the connection regardless of any story we fabricate to lead them in another direction.”

Indra tilted his head marginally in Ezra’s direction, his curtain of pale hair falling across his back. “Not turning away from the inevitable. I admire that in a deity.”

Agni offered Indra an uninspired look before turning a searching gaze on Ezra. He did not speak but rather pressed his hand firmly against the small of Ezra’s back. Ezra knew exactly what Agni did not say in front of Indra. The Fire God wanted to know if inviting that level of scrutiny tonight was something he could handle.

It was already enough he was being initiated into the godly society.

Maybe Ezra did not understand the depth of Rudra’s reach yet and consequently did not understand the reactions he would inevitably garner from the other deities. It was painfully evident he knew nothing about his sire other than his self-isolation upon mountains, his impressive ability with a bow and his trident. Rudra was a legend here and Ezra knew nothing about it.

Regardless, it was something Ezra wanted to get out of the way.

He inclined his head in answer to Agni’s question, reassured their ability to communicate nonverbally was still intact despite—

Despite…

“We do not deny parentage, but we do not actively invite discussion of it either,” Agni stated explicitly to Indra.

Indra had the audacity to appear taken aback. “I would never.” He suddenly smiled thinly, appearing especially smug. “We simply claim ignorance and say Ezra was Brahma’s design. We leave the speculations to the others.” As they neared a set of double doors with guards on either side, Indra lowered his voice. “A word of caution, I don’t imagine Kama will be especially welcoming over the revelation of Rudra having a son.”

“Kama?”

Next to Ezra, Agni smirked unkindly. “Our cousin. Vishnu’s son.” 

Family rivalry.

What else did Ezra have to look forward to?

The two guards—dressed in ivory in gold—moved to open the doors but stopped as soon as Indra lifted a hand. The King of Gods turned to Ezra. “Shall we, Reaper?” Indra inquired coyly with a challenging lift of his brow.

Ezra scoffed at Indra’s dramatics.

Nonetheless, he considered everything working against him. His ignorance of this culture, his parentage, the mystery of his origins, the unknown of how the other deities would receive him, and most pressingly—the sad state of his relationship with Agni. It was enough to send anyone hunkering away. Yet when Ezra mulled this over, he couldn’t help but feel a strange excitement kindle and ignite.

He was finally in his element.

This was where he felt most confident.

He stood a bit straighter underneath Agni’s hand, feeling a flicker of his old self return.

While dwelling within Agni’s territory was a much-needed escape and retreat, he was prone to grow too comfortable. He also had to deal with the unfamiliarity of emotional intimacy, something that was completely out of his depth and far more daunting than a ballroom full of strangers waiting to meet him.

This would be good for him.

Evidently recognizing Ezra’s readiness, Indra dropped his hand and the doors swung open, inviting forth a plethora of loud music, a sweet tangy fog of incense, and the sudden accrual of hundreds of eyes.

Ezra’s first step down the stairs was one of utmost assurance.

This was merely another challenge he would conquer.

And he would conquer it with ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't exactly the chapter I had promised, but it got to be 7,000 words and I didn't think it would flow right if I started the celebration at the end. SO chapter 20 and 21 will have the celebration. I'm nearly halfway with Chapter 20, so I don't anticipate it will take long to post :) Maybe next weekend? Or the weekend after!


	20. Flood of Color and Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge, huge thank you to Fae/CaramelRaven for looking over this chapter! ♥ Any mistakes are my own.

  1. **Flood of Color and Light**



This was no mere ballroom.

It was _massive._

From his position on the stairs, Ezra happened to glance up, noticing there were several floors—he counted six—above them.

Each floor was open to the ballroom below, possessing small balconies that suspended into the open space above the main floor. Numerous bodies leaned against the railings to get a better look at the main entrance; and soon, those bodies were accompanied by a mass of others once the music came to a skillful and subtle halt.

Ezra’s eyebrows heightened marginally as Indra drew to his full height and preened under the attention. Ezra then shared a knowing look with Agni, the latter far from amused and every bit the stoic and reluctant observer.

As they waited for the hall to quiet, Ezra carefully observed the night-and-day difference between Agni and Indra as they stood next to one another. While they both had fair hair, Indra’s was cool in hue, whereas Agni’s was much warmer. Indra’s skin was pale. Agni’s skin was golden and tanned. Indra was a mess of light and glittering fabric, whereas Agni chose to pair his dark attire with a simple cluster of body chains.

On all accounts, Indra should have outshined Agni. He was taller. He was brighter. He was far more susceptible to catching the light of the room and radiating it back with a sparkling gleam. He had the arrogance, the beauty, the status, and the power.

Yet it was Agni’s dark presence and formidable confidence that drew the wary eye.

The Fire God’s broad shoulders emanated immense power and a pride seasoned with age and experience. His expression was entirely closed, but the cut of his features was both sharp and wickedly handsome—a sight Ezra always found himself fascinated with. Agni did not need to decorate himself with gaudy jewelry, rather intimidation and dark allure was enough to catch the eye and make it linger.

Smug pride swelled within Ezra.

Agni could put a ‘pause’ on as many engagements as he wanted. It didn’t change the fact that Agni was—and always would be—entirely _his._

Agni’s gaze landed on his own. 

It took the god only a brief moment of contemplation before he seemed to read the intent in Ezra’s eyes. A smirk—mirroring Ezra’s smug possessiveness—stretched across his mouth. As if encouraged by Ezra’s open desire, the Fire God shifted ever so much closer and repositioned his hand on the small of Ezra’s back. He appraised Ezra thoroughly beneath lowered lashes, the hunger in his gaze nearly taking Ezra by surprise.

His stomach clenched at the god’s precarious yearning.

“Your attention!” Indra claimed the rest of the wandering attentions and reached out a hand. “Queen Shachi. If you could join us, please.”

Ezra tore his gaze from Agni and focused keenly on the goddess making her way across the floor and up the stairs.

She was vaguely familiar, and Ezra realized he’d seen her briefly upon his first contact with the palace when he had dealt with the Pretas. She was unbelievably beautiful, but what had he expected? Chitragupta claimed she was the Goddess of Beauty, Jealousy, and Rage.

She was the embodiment of grace as she ascended the stairs toward her husband. Her hair was a vibrant shade of red and blonde, elaborately pulled back with an array of ruby-studded pins and a crown of gleaming silver. Her shimmering gown of a multitude of colors was cut up to her thigh and quite revealing around her torso and chest. 

Ezra was vividly reminded of Kai just then, who had gushed excitedly about the revealing clothes in the god realm. The goddesses certainly revealed more skin than the blue-blooded aristocrats of Concordia, but it did not flabbergast Ezra nearly as much as it had seemingly flabbergasted Kai. He would have to tease Edlen about that later.

He sorely wished Kai were here with him.

Gold—almost feline eyes—settled on Ezra.

A quirk of her lips revealed a soft, fond interest as she came to a stop next to Indra. She was her own force next to the king, carrying a practiced air of regality and power.

“Unlike Agni, who is always fashionably late to these events, I will not keep you all waiting.” Indra’s words reverberated across the massive hall, ensnaring all ears and inviting a few chuckles. “Queen Shachi and I would like to formally introduce you all to Ezra, our new God of Death and Justice.” He motioned to Ezra, undoubtedly sullen that Agni had destroyed his plans of publicly clasping Ezra’s shoulder by positioning himself between the two of them.

Indra dropped his hand before turning back to the room.

“I expect all of you to welcome him tonight and give him a proper reception.”

Among the soft applause, there was one individual who clapped his hands the loudest and let out a few shouts of approval in time with his applause. The gold-haired god in the back of the hall drew enough attention with his antics to effectively take the attention off Ezra.

Ezra glanced at Agni, who appeared decidedly blasé.

“Surya.”

_Ah. The Sun God._

The music began playing again—almost in competition with Surya who grew louder but was eventually defeated when the drums began in earnest. Ezra peered down the stairs toward the main floor. Bypassing the several faces gazing up at him, he examined the layout. While the main floor was enormous, he spied several staircases leading down to more levels. He caught just a glimpse of dancers and musicians—and by the gods, was that man sporting a horse’s leg?

Shachi leaned across Indra, spurring Ezra’s quick attention.

Though the music was loud, her words cut through the commotion with notable assertiveness. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Ezra.”

Ezra’s ear perked at the specific wording, feeling his skin crawl when he realized Indra had not been jesting earlier. These deities truly had looked down on him when he’d been in the mortal realm. He’d known there’d always been a possibility, especially when he and Kartikeya had engaged in battle. Yet just how much more had these gods and goddesses witnessed?

Schooling his features, Ezra brought his palms together at chest level and offered a short bow. “Queen Shachi, Namaste.”

It was the greeting Chitragupta had made sure Ezra understood for tonight—at least when greeting royalty or figures who warranted respect—like gurus. 

She appeared charmed with the greeting and bowed her head, though her eyes remained predatory as they observed him. “I will not keep you and Agni from making the rounds, though I do hope you will make time for a quick visit with the other goddesses and myself.” She then looked at Agni. “Lord Agni.”

“Queen Shachi.” The Fire God nodded to her with reserved respect before guiding Ezra down the stairs. 

It was clear Agni wanted to be anywhere but here, and Ezra could not blame him. The stares from the other deities were both heavy and bold. While it did not affect Ezra, he noticed the way Agni’s countenance had animated with his body coiling and his eyes brightening shrewdly. It was a fascinating transformation to watch. Ezra had known of Agni’s antisocial tendencies; he just hadn’t seen it demonstrated to such an extent.

It was not a self-conscious demeanor—far from it—but it was rather hostile and uninviting. If he did not know Agni as well as he did, the change would have unnerved him. As it were, it only amused him.

“Careful,” Ezra mused dryly, “others will see how thrilled you are to be here and be inclined to continue inviting us.”

Agni looked at him from the corner of his eye, a reluctantly amused curl finding its way across his lips. “It is fortunate at least one of us has a sense of humor tonight, _charu._ ”

Ezra refrained from laughing as they cleared the last step with impressive speed. “Are we going to find ourselves a dark corner to hide in?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t believe that would dissuade them from approaching.”

“Why would a dark corner dissuade them when your irritable expression seems to work just fine?”

He glanced above at the balconies, instantly noticing the enthusiastic and eager gazes following Agni. Excited and animated chatter followed soon after they got their fill. Clearly, Rudra wasn’t the only elusive legend in Elisium. However, in contrast to the deities in the balconies, Ezra noted those who dwelled on the main level withheld their obvious admiration of Agni’s presence. Instead, their attention seemed to linger longer on Ezra, undoubtedly trying to scrutinize him.

They didn’t get much time to observe, for Agni seemed to have a destination in mind and he was not stopping for—nor inviting—chitchat.

They approached a partly secluded area decorated with curtains that appeared as if they were spun from gold and an arrangement of cushioned benches. Disregarding the comfort of the seating stood a vaguely familiar god who turned to watch their approach. Bright sapphire eyes locked onto Ezra before widening. The god turned unnaturally still as he looked Ezra up and down before turning away and hiding his expression behind a large wine glass.

“Varuna.”

Upon Agni’s call, the Water God turned back around and feigned surprise. “Agni.” Trailing off, he looked once more at Ezra, his expression cooling into nonchalance. “Reaper.”

“Water God,” Ezra countered with the same level of haughtiness.

Varuna watched Ezra suspiciously over the rim of his glass. “Obviously, I have been left out of the loop yet again.”

“Now is not the time,” Agni responded tightly. He settled next to Varuna and his hand relaxed at Ezra’s back, yet he did not remove it. Rather, he smoothed his palm firmly across Ezra’s back—in between his shoulder blades—before settling a claiming hand just at his waist. “We are just unearthing things ourselves.”

That seemed to calm Varuna down somewhat. He flashed Ezra another look from the corner of his eye, unsubtle in his appraisal.

Now that Agni was not sprinting Ezra across the room, the younger god had the opportunity to take a breath and observe his surroundings. As he noted during his last visit to the palace, the architecture had several similarities to the Igni palaces that Ezra had studied in books. The only difference was the colors. Everything appeared as if it were made with white materials—white marble, white sandstone, white stucco—with heavy accents of gold and black to offset the starkness.

The architecture was immaculately sculptured with a dizzying amount of detail that immediately drew the eye, from the meticulously-detailed fanned vaults to the multifoil-shaped archways. These arches were plentiful in numbers, and they were supported by expansive and strong pillars that held up the different levels of the ballroom. Ezra noted there were several cushioned alcoves tucked away between the pillars and hidden around the perimeter of the room.

Colorful sheer curtains hung in front of the alcoves to offer a semblance of privacy, their colors so vibrant, Ezra was certain the mortal realm could never _dream_ of replicating their hue. Aside from sheer fabrics, he observed strings of gems hanging from archways—rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and unique stones he could not identify.

As well, a multitude of vivid glass lanterns hung suspended in the air—their colors just as vibrant as the curtains’. He found his attention lingering on the purple lanterns, finding the color appealing to the eye.

Near the head of the ballroom, there were two...

Ezra didn’t even know how to describe them.

They appeared almost like mandaps.

They were low platforms with curtains enclosing their pillared structure. Inside one structure was a plethora of lounging gods. Inside the other—goddesses. Ezra averted his eyes when he noticed Indra entering one of the structures. It was evidently some sort of exclusive area for the king’s and queen’s favorites.

He turned in Agni’s hold, glancing behind him and down a set of stairs toward the level the musicians were playing on. The rhythm of the music was upbeat and sultry, the instruments being used not entirely familiar to Ezra. The drums were all different shapes and sizes, and there were stringed instruments he’d never seen before.

As he looked closer, he noticed his eye had not deceived him earlier. Several of the musicians had legs that belonged on horses.

Agni noticed his observation. 

“Those are Gandharvas,” he explained over the music. “They are half-horse, sometimes half-bird. When it comes to entertainment and creating music, no one can surpass their abilities. They are often performing for deities—especially in Indra’s court.” He turned Ezra toward the dancers. “Those are Apsaras. They are beautiful, supernatural females that excel in the art of dancing and seducing others. They are typically the wives of the Gandharvas. There are different districts of Apsara cultures, each with their own style of dance and aesthetics.”

Ezra found himself instantly spellbound.

The way they _moved…_

They were ethereally beautiful, but also sensual. Youthfully vivacious, they possessed curvy figures, curtains of dark hair, and eyes just as endlessly dark. They matched the fierce music with fluid simplicity, their energy not showing signs of waning despite rapidly leaping and engaging their entire body with the rhythm. Colorful sheer and glittering fabric draped their bodies, emphasizing their curves and leaving little to the imagination. Tinkling bells adorned their anklets, drawing attention to the elaborate henna across their bare feet.

It was no wonder there was a large group of deities surrounding the musicians and dancers. Ezra had the crazy notion of going down to join them. If only to get a closer look.

That was until Agni’s firm hand pulled Ezra back around. 

He fought the god slightly, his eyes wanting one last glance.

Behind them, Varuna chuckled. “Let him have his fill, Agni. All fledglings must experience the temptations of an Apsara.”

“Not this fledgling.”

Still in a slight daze, Ezra stared ahead at nothing in particular with the Apsaras at his back. He hadn’t appreciated that feeling of uncontrolled admiration and spellbinding fascination. If there was one thing that would quickly spoil his mood, it was the sensation of being imprisoned in his own body and not having the ability to fight against the foreign influence invading his consciousness.

That feeling of helplessness.

He ignored Agni’s scrutiny and focused on the deities mingling on the main floor. Several were engaged in conversation, some were lounging on the cushions strategically placed in clusters, others were eating and drinking. Ezra soon grew distracted as he inhaled the air. There was a very strong scent of sickly sweet and it turned his stomach. It reminded him—vaguely—of the first time he’d encountered Indra.

That tangy sweetness that Ezra hadn’t been able to place now permeated the room with suffocating abundance.

“Do you smell that?”

“There are many scents in the room, you would have to be more specific.”

Ezra offered Agni a look. “A sweetness. It is nauseating.”

Varuna and Agni gazed at him blankly.

“There are fruits displayed just to your left, Reaper. You should try some. They are incomparable to the fruits of the mortal realm.” Varuna motioned to the table near Ezra’s left. “I understand it’s not the source of food you were hoping for, but unfortunately, they are not serving gods tonight.” He paused. “Though I do not think anyone will miss Surya.”

Agni smirked with approval.

Ezra deadpanned at the show of sibling comradery. “Is this what you two do at all the palace gatherings? Snicker to yourselves in the corner and make jokes at the expense of others?” He could see it. Varuna and Agni enjoyed competing against one another until it involved someone else.

“It was not a jest, Reaper,” Varuna admonished, straight-faced. “I was quite serious. You should try the fruit.”

He narrowed his sights on the Water God.

The only time he’d seen Varuna in his own body was at the Talise Mausoleum. It had been dark and dank inside the crypt, and while the lighting in the ballroom wasn’t exactly luminous, Ezra could see Varuna more clearly. The resemblance to Agni was notable, with a few key dissimilarities, including his coloring.

Varuna had wavy locks that were light brown, but with a distinct cool hue. The god’s eyes were a remarkable sapphire with hints of teal that were accentuated by the colors he wore. His outfit was nearly identical to Agni’s with an open robe of rich fabric, held in place by a heavy sash of thick braided material around the waist. A pair of fitted trousers and an elaborate, intersected tunic were visible beneath the robe.

Only, unlike Agni’s choice of black and red, Varuna had chosen accents of white and blue. And also unlike Agni, Varuna was entirely decked out in jewelry, though not nearly as gaudy as Indra’s choices.

Ezra’s gaze dropped to Varuna’s sandals. The toes were naked, which—Ezra recalled—indicated an unmarried status. However, both Agni and Varuna wore an anklet of thick gold around their left ankle and that seemed to mean _something._ It looked deliberately heavy and shackling, with small scriptures engraved in the metal. 

Ezra lifted his gaze to Varuna. “We missed you when we were defending your mortal kingdom from Vayu.”

Varuna made a face at Ezra’s insolence. “You made it very clear Concordia is _your_ kingdom. It is only right you should have to be the one to defend it. Besides, at the rate you were killing all the mortals, it was obvious I would have just gotten in the way.”

“Varuna does not appreciate healthy competition,” Agni said. “He would have felt inadequate next to you.”

“Reaper!”

Upon the call, both Varuna and Agni immediately turned expressionless as they watched the approach of another god.

The god was—

 _Eccentric_ was the only word Ezra could fathom through his disbelief.

The god’s clothing resembled Ashvin’s when he’d arrived at Agni’s home to treat Ezra. The legs were bare—hairless—and especially smooth. The shortened trousers were more like men’s undergarments—cut just to the middle of his thighs. His bold-patterned tunic was loose and open to the chest to display an array of clunky chains. A sash of pure gold wrapped around his waist, accenting with the gold jewelry adorning his sun-kissed skin. Judging from the loose curls of spun gold framing his boyishly handsome face, and the wicked gleam in his gold eyes, Ezra had a very good notion this was—

“Surya.”

Upon Ezra’s correct deduction, Surya performed a dramatic bow with a quick, sloppy hand clasp to his chest.

As he lowered, Ezra caught sight of the gods in Indra’s keep, who were all observing the interaction. And now that he considered Surya, he noted a faint resemblance to the group of blond-haired deities in Indra’s crowd. He vaguely recalled Indra mentioning ‘brothers’—plural.

Not just Tvastr.

“Are you related to Indra?” Ezra asked bluntly, dreading the answer.

Just how many relatives did Chitragupta and Indra have? The thought of even _more_ Indra-related specimens walking around—

It was quite horrifying.

“Our high and mighty majesty would be my younger brother.” Surya straightened and smirked at Ezra’s lukewarm expression. “I have a very intricate family tree, but you’ve already met so many of our family members.” He sashayed next to Ezra’s side, his height surprisingly average—if not only an inch or two above Ezra. “You would have met my daughter and my son, Yamuna and Ashvin. Both are their own set of twins.” He grimaced. “You have not experienced parenthood until you have had the honor of raising two sets of fledgling twins.”

Ezra’s attention was piercing.

He was Yama’s _father?_

“Let’s see.” Surya placed an arm around Ezra’s shoulders and examined the hall of deities under Agni’s sharp, piercing stare. “You’ve had the displeasure of meeting Tvastr. He happens to be my brother as well.”

“And father-in-law,” Varuna volunteered casually into the depths of his wine glass. “Essentially twice over.”

Ezra’s brows drew together sharply as he tried to wrap his mind around that. His attention then dropped to the ring around Surya’s toe. Surely that didn’t mean—

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Varuna,” Surya retorted a bit defensively. He then broke out into an easy grin. “Considering Agni is knocking his newfound—” his voice pitched low into a dramatic whisper, “ _cousin_ , he’s finally come around. There is something about keeping it in the family.”

Agni’s retort came quickly. “You don’t keep _it_ anywhere.”

That earned the wide-eyed attention from Varuna, who’d clearly not concluded blood relation to Ezra just yet.

As overwhelming as Surya’s presence was, Ezra found him especially entertaining.

Surya shrugged, the action causing Ezra to move with him through their linked hold. “I have a very simple motto.” He looked down at Ezra. “Live like a mortal.”

Ezra quirked a brow. He could almost feel Agni’s silent warning of not entertaining the Sun God, but he couldn’t resist.

“And how is that?”

“Spontaneously,” Surya said with exaggerated severity. “You’re never guaranteed another day. Dabble in new interests. Explore the unknown. Partake in the heated affair of a new lover. Embrace the scandal.” He paused and observed Ezra closely. “I imagine your mortal upbringing gives you a similar outlook.” He looked pointedly at Agni. “Better enjoy him while he’s patient enough to stay at your side, Agni. He may just discover a younger, more animated _flame_.”

The bond he shared with Agni spasmed before darkening considerably.

Ezra realized the Fire God was actually _upset_ by Surya’s playful ridicule. The god was never one to be affected by anyone, least of all the likes of Surya who was clearly just trying to get a rise out of Agni. And it had worked. Ezra imagined mocking could only get under Agni’s skin if it was something the god believed—or feared—himself. 

Ezra looked at Agni.

How ridiculous were they?

It suddenly all made sense. All the conversations and arguments they had shared brought forth the revelation that Agni was suddenly insecure. But _why?_ Agni was always so flippantly self-assured. Perhaps Agni _had_ put weight on being counterparts—not because he felt it was important, but because he felt he could only keep Ezra at his side for that very reason.

And then Chitragupta had commented on Ezra’s tendency to shut down when presented with emotion. It was the emotional intimacy that Ezra shied away from, but he had always appreciated his relationship with Agni because Agni _knew._

Agni never needed validation. He was confident and secure for the both of them.

Until he wasn’t.

“I prefer them brooding and old,” Ezra said cheekily, catching Agni’s eyes and staring at him deliberately. 

Agni watched him steadily in turn, not revealing anything.

“Oh good. Indra will be most pleased to hear he still has a chance.” Surya promptly removed his arm from Ezra’s shoulders when Agni’s unblinking stare returned to him. Was Ezra imagining the additional heat to Surya’s arm? Regardless, Surya managed to make the act look nonchalant and intentional. “At any rate, I saw your battle against Tvastr, Kartikeya, and Vayu. Pretty impressive for such a young god.”

“It wouldn’t have been nearly as difficult if it hadn’t been for the weapons you and Tvastr designed.”

And now that Ezra knew Surya had been Yama’s father, it brought forth a cause for caution. Unlike with Yamuna, Yama’s Essence was quite passive in the presence of his father, though Ezra could sense the bitter twang of acrimony.

He wasn’t fooled by Surya’s slapstick disposition. This god had undoubtedly gone through many trials in his existence. It was difficult seeing these deities as hundreds—thousands—of years old when they appeared so young and oftentimes immature. But Surya was unquestionably powerful, and he had created weapons that had the power to harm his son.

Ezra imagined that was enough to chip away some of Surya’s sanity.

Ezra couldn’t even imagine. If Cyra or Mikhail had become something so horrible…how could he have devised ways to leave them vulnerably open for destruction?

“It’s all about leveling the playing field,” Surya responded simply, if not a bit despondently. He pushed aside a curl and gazed across the ballroom, quickly changing the topic. “I know Kartikeya is eager for a rematch. Aside from the brief time he grounded with us at Agni’s mortal festival, it was his first time being in the mortal realm. It’s a difficult task for a fledgling.”

Ezra found the god instantly.

The God of War was lingering near the outskirts of the ballroom, his gaze distant and unfocused. Next to him stood a goddess with red hair who appeared to be holding a conversation for the both of them. Kartikeya’s orange gaze sought the room before landing on Ezra. And then quickly to the Fire God at his side.

“Speaking of fledglings reborn again…” Varuna started curiously, “have you met our sister, Agni?”

That earned Varuna a look of derision.

Ezra breathed past the tension.

“Honestly, you three are terrible hosts.”

The welcome distraction took the form of a blonde-haired goddess. Her burgundy gown somehow stood out as being dissimilar from the other gowns of the room. It was modest and timeless as it draped her figure. Perhaps half his attention truly was in the mortal realm—as Agni had claimed earlier—but she had the strangest resemblance and aura of the Concordia elite.

She reminded Ezra of Brooke.

“Jaldevi,” Surya praised in greeting.

She pointedly ignored the Sun God and zeroed in on Ezra. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ezra.” She offered a slight dip in greeting. “Do you mind if I borrow you for a bit? Perhaps introduce you to the other deities who are too leery to approach the three gods caging you in the corner?”

Varuna made a noise of exasperation. “If they lack the spine to approach us, they would lack the spine to get to know the Reaper.”

She offered Varuna a stern look before offering a much kinder look to Agni. “I will return him, Agni.” She peeled Ezra from Agni’s side. What was most surprising, Agni let her. “I know just the deities to introduce you to.”

Ezra threw a glance over his shoulder at Agni, catching the Fire God’s eye.

He gazed after Ezra vigilantly. It was then when Ezra had to remind himself that Agni had lost a son to three unknown deities. It was also crucial to remember that Ezra had been hunted as a newborn just as well. Moreover, these deities were not friends or allies of the Syphons.

This was not a game, nor a social event to enjoy.

He was very much among potential enemies and he would need to watch his step.

*** * * ***

Once Surya was out of earshot, Varuna found it impossible to suppress any longer.

He laughed.

“Just _what_ in Brahma’s name have you dragged in, Agni?”

The Gandharvas and Apsaras could have been performing their hearts out this evening, yet the Reaper remained the exclusive source of entertainment. The young god elicited a wide range of peculiar reactions across the palace ballroom. From the balconies above, curiosity radiated as necks craned and fledglings or deities of lesser status all but bent over the railing to catch a glimpse of the new God of Death and Justice.

Aside from palpable curiosity, there was obvious approval, but also scorn or cautious distrust. However, they were not dwelling on the main level of the ballroom. The glimpses they caught of the Reaper would not do him justice, for the fledgling turned out to be remarkably…

_Eye catching._

One could not appreciate such attractiveness unless they had a proper look.

Varuna smiled thinly as he felt his brother stiffen further as the seconds stretched into minutes without his counterpart at his side.

Agni’s rapacious eyes cut through the crowd, watching Jal as she escorted Ezra further away. The Fire God either did not notice or cared little for the attention _he_ was garnering for attending a public event after such a long absence.

One could not blame Agni for his distraction.

Now that Ezra was away from Agni’s dark cloud of ominousness, others had more opportunity to scrutinize.

Gossip had been quick to spread among Elisium that this fledgling was not a _traditional_ fledgling despite the obvious glimmer across the cheekbones. He was raised as a mortal; therefore, his mentality could not be compared to the fledglings raised in their world. He had already had a _child._ And a second one on the way! Such explanations soothed the initial reactions to Agni’s romantic claim to the fledgling, yet others were still incredibly derisive of the Fire God’s intentions with one so young.

Conversely, judging by some of the shameless, lingering stares, others considered Ezra of consenting age.

“As delectable as he appears,” Varuna started, “they do not know what a complete torment and cheeky little brat he is. It won’t be long until he’s attracting trouble or raising hell.” A pause. “Quite literally.”

“He _is_ a torment.” Agni agreed. “He could have used several years to get acclimated with the god realm before stepping foot in high society.”

“You do not trust him?” Varuna asked, turning to glance at his brother.

Agni did not answer right away. When he did, his voice was tight with barely constrained vehemence, “I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust others.”

Varuna assessed his brother closely, sensing the edginess. He knew exactly what was bothering Agni and he relished in the thought. 

“This is good for you.” He turned away when Agni leveled him with one of his infamous stares. “You were in complete control with your previous… _relationships_.” He truly hesitated to call them as such. “Now you know what the rest of us experience. We are at the mercy of our lovers.”

Agni did not have a retort for that, which greatly amused Varuna. Evidently, Agni was just beginning to realize he was not the one in charge of a relationship.

The Reaper had him wrapped around his finger.

_How the mighty and fierce have fallen…_

It happened to all gods. Varuna recalled the powerless sensation that had accompanied a similar revelation he’d experienced with Jaldevi. He hadn’t been prepared for the feelings of vulnerability, dependency, and fear. They’d been sensations that had been foreign to him and sensations that would certainly feel foreign to Agni, who always prided himself on being a tameless force.

Varuna was immensely pleased he’d decided to attend tonight’s celebration, if only because it had been quite some time since he’d had this much fun poking Agni. As well, it was equally as entertaining seeing Vayu’s sour expression from across the room.

Nonetheless…

Varuna sobered as he resumed his scrutiny of the young Reaper.

Ezra worked the room just as valiantly as Varuna knew he would. He possessed the appeal of a natural-born royal. And yet, no matter his allure, those he directly approached remained warily aloof. Most deities preferred to observe from a distance, their regards either appraising or cautiously vigilant. When it came to closing that distance and being under Ezra’s direct attention, however, the sense of apprehension was only amplified.

And so presented the quandary of Ezra—one Varuna wondered if the fledgling was even aware of himself. If not now, he would soon come to the revelation.

He may have a face that would attract most, but there was a level of precariousness lingering in the Reaper’s bearing that ensnared the instant notice of others.

He’d _told_ Jaldevi that they’d lack the spine.

Most harbored strong sentiments toward the God of Death—not only from Yama’s previous actions but from the aura and power that accompanied such a role. Moreover, there was a particular sense of familiarity and an uncanny impression of an age-old presence. And not just any age-old presence.

Varuna glanced subtly toward Indra’s keep, noticing the king and his company were just as unabashed in their observation and conversation of the Reaper. Of course they would be. Rudra had always been a source of immense fear and elusive reverence to the deities. They were undeniably wetting themselves with excitement over the prospect of possessing and harnessing Rudra’s—

His son?

“Rudra.” Varuna regained Agni’s attention. “Is it true?”

“It’s true.”

“Your cousin…”

“ _Our_ cousin.”

Varuna made a noise in his throat. “ _How_?”

“A question we all would like answered.” Agni was not giving anything away. Unsurprising, considering their surroundings. Varuna would have to visit Agni in his Brahma-forsaken desert to get anything substantial. He decided he would drag Jaldevi with him.

Agni continued, “it is not something we would like to publicize.”

Varuna toasted Ezra with his glass. “You don’t have to publicize anything, Agni; his appearance is enough for that.” He glanced at their older brother. “I do wonder at Vayu’s thoughts of having to accept the Reaper as part of our family. And not just through marriage.”

“If he can accept Prithvi’s replacement, he should be able to accept Ezra.”

Upon the mention of Prithvi, Varuna’s mirth dimmed.

He may not have entirely agreed with Agni’s thoughts of replacement gods in the past, but with Prithvi, Varuna found his sentiments conflicting. Jal had met with the new Earth Goddess and had delivered to her Varuna’s greetings. Yet Varuna could not muster up the mindset to see her just yet. For all the centuries they had spent together, for all the intimacies they had shared as close friends and siblings, he did not want to look upon his sister’s face and see the lack of recognition in those eyes. 

He and Agni lapsed into a heavy silence. 

*** * * ***

Courting others was like placing an old, familiar mask back on. 

While the mask did not fit quite the way he recalled, it was still a role that was ingrained in him since birth. It did not matter that his environment was so new. It did not matter that these were deities instead of mortals. The entire basis of interacting with others remained the same.

Or, it should have remained the same.

As soon as he left Agni’s side, Ezra perceived that it couldn’t have been more dissimilar. 

The few deities Jaldevi introduced him to remained relatively polite, but it was strained politeness. They were apprehensive of him, and Ezra did not know if it was because he was the Reaper, part-Syphon, Agni’s lover, or if they identified enough Rudra in him to ward them away. They could barely keep eye contact with him, oftentimes speaking to him through Jaldevi.

Other times, they were blatantly rude in their haste to excuse themselves.

Ezra likened his current situation to being the only Igni in a room full of highbrow Unda aristocrats, only he didn’t have his royal lineage to fall back on this time. Moreover, he was also performing in front of a ballroom full of spectators.

“I apologize on their behalf,” Jaldevi murmured as she watched their most recent failed interaction hurry the other direction. His name was Balarama, the God of Agriculture, and he did _not_ appreciate Ezra’s induction into Elisium. “Perhaps we should have convinced Agni to make the rounds with you. If only so he could make note of the fools inclined to offend you.”

“I am certain he’s still managing to take thorough notes.”

Ezra didn’t want to look back at Agni, already sensing the god’s heavy observation. And it was more than just Agni who was watching the cringeworthy introductions.

The public humiliation was nothing new. Agni _and_ Varuna had both warned him to expect discrimination here. It was why he was raised the way he’d been raised. Why Ezra thought he could prove Agni and Varuna wrong and charm the entire high society of deities, he did not know. He straddled between two worlds, and one of those worlds was irredeemable in the eyes of these people.

Under the heavy weight of indignity, Ezra stood taller and reinforced his barriers.

They could disrespect him now, but he’d remember.

As Jaldevi escorted him across the room, they happened across a pair of goddesses. Having seen Ezra’s approach, both goddesses turned the other way, feigning ignorance.

“I hadn’t planned on introducing you to them anyway,” Jaldevi said, loud enough for the duo to overhear. “Goddesses of Pettiness and Prudery.” That earned her a backward stare from the two goddesses, both of them affronted. To Ezra, Jaldevi quietly said, “They are actually the Goddesses of Obligation and Perfection, as well as Svaha’s sisters, but they may as well represent what they excel at.”

Ezra was inclined to appreciate her attempt of defense. “You must be unaccustomed to this treatment, being as you are the Goddess of Wine.”

He’d been surprised to learn Jaldevi was not only the Goddess of Wine but also Varuna’s consort. According to Jaldevi—or Jal, as she insisted—they’d been in a courtship for several decades and had yet to marry.

“I am not personally acclimated to such treatment, but I am familiar with the nonsense of unfounded discrimination.” She flattened a hand down her burgundy gown and approached the large display of delicate wine glasses. “You may be uncomfortable if I mention it, but I occasionally looked down on the mortal realm.” Jal’s fingers—painted a rich and flawless burgundy—hovered over a glass of wine. “May I offer you a glass?”

“No offense, but I prefer whiskey,” Ezra replied curtly. “And I am beginning to realize that many deities seem to have looked down on the mortal realm.”

Jal seemed amused at Ezra’s drink preference and helped herself to a glass. She then led him on a stroll around the perimeter of the room, either not minding or paying no attention to the observation from the other deities. 

Ezra wondered if Indra and Shachi had to _force_ people to attend tonight.

“Rest assured, I had other reasons for observing the mortal realm, but I admired what you have done for the women of Concordia,” Jaldevi said. “You have certainly given tools to some very able and upstanding women of the kingdom. Brooke Glyndwr and Cordelia Abital to name a few.”

Upon the mention of Brooke and Cordelia, Ezra felt a brief pang of nostalgia and the _wild_ desire to ground himself again—consequences be damned. “You remind me of them,” he admitted.

She looked at him then, a casual lift to her shapely brow. “Has Agni not told you? That the Four have shaped their kingdoms after a specific god or goddess that they hold very dear?”

“He has not.”

The thought had never crossed Ezra’s mind, but now that he considered it, the more it made sense as to why the four kingdoms were so different from one another—in both nature and appearance—despite the Four being relatively similar. It was becoming increasingly evident that the Igni Empire was based heavily on the god realm. And the Unda Kingdom had a remarkably similar feel as Jaldevi. From her coloring and conservative style to her cool and politically savvy demeanor.

Then the Igni Empire must have been based on…Skanda?

Or Rudra?

Perhaps a combination of both. They both had the skin tone and dark hair. And from what Ezra had discerned, they both had that fire—that remarkably aggressive spirit—and the family loyalty.

Ezra refocused on Jal.

She appeared to be a strong-spirited goddess, surely she did not condone all the things Varuna had created in _her_ image. “What are your views on Concordia’s gender discrimination?”

She was not at all offended by the question; if anything, she appeared relieved he’d asked. “I was very young when Varuna designed Unda after me. While it was flattering, I did begin to discern the inequalities between men and women. It made me question the image _I_ was portraying in Elisium. I wasn’t nearly as self-assured then as I am now. I have Queen Shachi to thank for taking me under her wing and educating me.” 

As she sipped from her wine, her lipstick—colored the same deep burgundy as her dress—left an imprint on her glass.

“I consider the progression of women’s stance in Concordia’s society a reflection of my own growth. They’re just now finding their footing.”

Ezra found he empathized with Jaldevi and respected her ability to recognize her downfalls and improve upon them. “They may have just found their footing, but they will soon find their stride under Brooke.”

She appreciated his adamant support. “They will. I look forward to seeing that revolution.”

After hearing of her connection to Concordia, he realized why she had indicated an interest outside of Ezra when looking down on the mortal realm. However, the conversation only left him with more questions.

“What of Prithvi? Who inspired her image of the Terra Kingdom?”

He thought of Gaia Slater’s flawless dark skin and curls of ebony. There were several individuals attending tonight’s celebration that fit that description, and Ezra was pleased by the vast array of coloring across the deities. It was so unlike the mortal realm, which was divided by color and race. Then again, Elisium was divided not by color, but by species.

It was painfully evident, especially after tonight’s performance, that Elisium was not without their own obstinate prejudices. 

A ghost of a smile crossed Jal’s lips, but it faded quickly. “Her very close friend, Aranyani, the Forest Goddess.” Her blue eyes searched the crowd. “She is not here tonight, though that is entirely unsurprising. She—like Prithvi—tends to prefer the company of nature.”

Ezra surveyed the room, looking for a particular deity.

He could not find him.

“And Vayu?”

Here, Jal seemed just as forlorn as she had been when mentioning Prithvi. “Vayu was an exception to his siblings. It was a bit controversial, considering he had a consort at the time, but he did not create the Eurus Empire in her image. Rather, his inspiration came from an Apsara who was from a district that is very dissimilar to the district of Apsaras performing tonight. And unfortunately, she passed long ago.”

An _Apsara_.

Before Ezra could inquire further about Vayu—as well as Prithvi—Jaldevi’s attention was claimed by the approach of two goddesses. They were an unusual pair—one much taller than the other, but both so synchronized that when they moved, there was undoubtedly an intimate connection between them. The taller goddess had hair of dark blonde and dark amber eyes, whereas the shorter one had darker coloring.

Ezra was very fortunate Jaldevi had broached the topic of his wardrobe earlier. It had given him leeway into asking what Surya was wearing, for the blonde-haired goddess wore roughly the same attire.

_Shorts._

He was not familiar with ‘shorts’ other than the shortened trousers little boys wore, and those just skimmed the knee. What Surya and a handful of other deities wore was much shorter and far more form-fitting.

“Saw your successful terrorization of Balarama, Reaper; and we just had to introduce ourselves and offer our praise,” the taller goddess proclaimed wryly. As she came to a stop next to Ezra, he noticed her height may have surpassed Agni’s.

The intricately designed blouse she wore was open and plunging low enough to tease the swell of her chest. A gold belt looped around her waist, matching the brilliant gold vambraces around her forearms.

“No one can scare off Balarama. Not even Ushas,” the other goddess said. She held out a hand to Ezra, revealing her own set of dark vambraces. Despite her elegant gown with sheer, sequined sleeves, the vambraces did not seem out of place. Instead, they appeared to be the central accessory of her wardrobe. “I am Ratri, Goddess of Night. This is my sister, Ushas, Goddess of Dawn. It is a pleasure to meet you, Reaper.”

They may have been sisters, yet their resemblance was indistinct.

“Ezra,” he encouraged, looking into her navy-blue eyes. Likewise, she seemed to perk up as she examined his own eyes, appearing almost giddy with excitement.

“How is our old God of Fire treating you, Reaper?” Ushas asked bluntly, smiling at her intentional use of his title.

Next to her, Ratri shook her head, before all three goddesses turned to look for Agni, finding him conversing with—or rather listening to—two warrior gods. He’d since broken away from Varuna and seemed to be closing the distance between himself and Ezra. And as if sensing their scrutiny, he looked up, immediately ensnaring Ezra’s gaze and conveying exactly what Ezra felt.

Exhaustion. Impatience.

The deities who dared to speak with Ezra earlier all had one thing in common. They’d wanted to know about Agni. They had wanted to know what it was like living with him, what were _Agni’s_ plans for the marriage ceremony, how had Agni managed to release the Pretas and the consequences of his actions, and how was Agni _fairing_ in general?

Regardless of how a specific deity may feel about Agni, the Fire God was very much an exciting mystery of Elisium. 

“As well as can be expected,” Ezra replied distractedly, watching as Agni turned back to the gods. They both perked up upon his refocus, resembling eager pupils intent on claiming their superior’s attention.

“He seems a bit irritable tonight,” Ushas observed. “Though I don’t blame him. No one sane enjoys these gatherings.”

“No offense taken,” Jal intervened pointedly, earning mirrored grins from the sisters.

Ezra watched the trio of goddesses closely as they interacted. Typically, he managed to hold his curiosity until a more opportune time, but he was beginning to see too many similarities—especially with Ushas—to a certain boisterous, golden-haired god.

“Are you related to Surya?”

His sudden inquiry elicited peals of laughter from both goddesses. “We know Surya _quite_ intimately—”

“Every goddess knows Surya intimately.”

“From my understanding,” Ezra started, “that does not rule out the possibility of you being related to him.”

That earned another round of chuckles from the goddesses. “Rest assured, we are not related to Surya.” Ushas paused as she examined Ezra thoroughly, appearing as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. Instead, she opted for a rather general topic. “We heard you were ambidextrous. What is your weapon of choice?”

“It depends,” Ezra mused. “Who is my opponent and what are my surroundings?”

Ratri and Ushas shared a smug look before engaging in hypothetical scenarios with Ezra. While it was not the politically-focused conversation he had prepared himself for, it was entertaining and far more engaging than continuously being denied interaction with the other deities. He soon learned that Ratri preferred wielding a battle-ax, while Ushas wielded a sword and occasionally a spear. Both sisters had some interesting stories about Kartikeya—Skanda—when he was going through training, suggesting that they were older than Skanda’s six hundred years.

He had a notion—aside from Surya—that Ushas and Ratri were far more easy-going than the other deities attending tonight’s celebration. Unfortunately, he didn’t get long to enjoy the brief reprieve their presence offered, for a well-dressed server interrupted their conversation and informed Ezra that King Indra was awaiting his _exclusive_ company inside the mandap.

Jaldevi had not seemed impressed with Indra’s attempts of luring Ezra inside his domain.

Ezra, on the other hand, was elated.

He knew this had been coming. He knew Indra wouldn’t—couldn’t—pass up an opportunity to exert his control by inviting Ezra where he held the highest ground.

As Ezra moved assuredly toward the mandap, he barely noticed the other deities shy away. He was far too focused—far too eager—to waste any effort on them as he prepared himself for the inevitable. Even from a distance, he saw several gods inside, and once Ezra stepped through the threshold and into the mandap, he counted and incurred the attention of eleven gods—the majority blond and undoubtedly related to Indra. There were exceptions, however, and Ezra was quick to see Vayu among the group, as well as another dark-haired god who stared at Ezra with barely contained disbelief.

“Reaper,” Indra greeted easily from the far end of the structure. “Please, take a seat.”

The only available seat was positioned purposefully in the middle of the group.

Ezra smirked. 

*** * * ***

Skanda slowly averted his gaze from Chitragupta as the other Syphon lectured Kai on the rules and objectives of Pachisi. Laid out on the table before the trio was the cloth cross along with several game pieces strewn about haphazardly. 

This…

This was his existence now.

Famished.

Undead.

And playing late-night fledgling _games_ with Indra’s son and a mortal-turned-Syphon fledgling who had little to no knowledge of the god realm. Skanda’s stare unfocused out the dark window, seeing nothing but his gaunt, colorless face peering back at him. Is this what his father had felt? This bone-weary exhaustion creeping dangerously close to pure insanity?

He was not bred for this lifestyle.

Doing nothing.

He may no longer be the God of War, but he still experienced the intense need for adrenaline and conflict. If only he could nudge the Reaper a bit faster—a bit harder—to his position in Naraka. His father explicitly stated Ezra needed time to recover from leaving the mortal realm to adapt in Elisium. Surely Ezra needed more than four days to rest and absorb all the new information, but Skanda liked to think he knew Ezra well enough to know the Reaper _needed_ to feel useful to be satisfied. Moreover, _Agni_ needed something to preoccupy his mind—something more than just the Reaper.

Chitragupta was driving Skanda mad— _he_ needed something to keep himself busy. Even throwing Kai headlong into the unknown would be the fastest way of educating the young Syphon.

So why the standstill when they all needed distractions?

Something flickered just at the corner of Skanda’s attention. He turned his head quickly, squinting out at the dark exterior. Behind him, Chit had abruptly stopped talking, his entire demeanor shifting.

The patio fire was no longer lit.

Skanda stood up abruptly as the small lanterns dotting the perimeter of the property flickered out one by one. Someone had to be incredibly clever, or impossibly _foolish_ , to attack the Fire God’s territory by extinguishing the flames. It would prevent the god from traveling through the flames to quickly confront the threat.

Inside the home, the fires also doused, spurring Skanda into action. He leaped over the table and sprinted toward the wall of weapons. Up ahead, the scones darkened and cast the corridors in deep shadow. 

“ _Agni_!” he called out to his father as the last bit of fire suddenly extinguished.

Darkness shrouded them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On my LiveJournal, I have posted a wonderful piece of Fan Art by Krinmu. They are still reading Part 3, so the artwork takes place in the chapter of the Igni Festival. Many thanks to their beautiful artwork ♥ You can see it [here!](https://epic-solemnity.livejournal.com/24270.html)
> 
> Thanks for reading ♥


	21. The Apex Predator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to Fae/CaramelRaven for looking over the chapter and for her suggestions ♥ Any mistakes are my own.

_**Chapter Twenty-One: The Apex Predator** _

The remaining seat was not so much a seat as it was a big, plushy cushion with sequined tassels dangling from the corners.

Ezra considered it with quiet contemplation.

While the other gods were lounging on their own cushions—somehow managing to exude both a lazy and entitled impression—he was offered the honor of the only glittery pillow in the mandap. It was clearly intentional on Indra’s part, a power play, or some sort of attempt to rile Ezra’s composure and make him feel uncomfortable.

He could react in one of two ways.

He could either rebel, or he could feign complete indifference. Choosing the option most likely to get under Indra’s skin, Ezra approached the middle of the mandap with a casual amble, feeling the weight of eager eyes following his every move.

Indra’s posse were all positioned in a circle around the mandap’s perimeter, barefoot, and relishing in the several offerings set upon intricate gold platters. Unsurprisingly, there was an abundance of wine and wine decanters made of shimmering crystal. Also present was that sweetness that Ezra could not expel from his nostrils and lungs.

It was especially potent here.

There was incense burning and creating a hazy atmosphere across the ballroom, but the incense was spicy and pleasant. Perhaps Varuna was correct. Perhaps the sweet smell was a new particular fruit that Ezra had not tried before. He _had_ observed the extremely questionable chunks of bright yellow and green fruit among the display tables.

Ezra lowered fluidly into a cross-legged position, settling on the sparkling cushion opposite of Indra with a spine that was both proud and stubborn.

Indra considered Ezra’s nonplussed expression, briefly chagrined at the lack of reaction, before raising his wine glass to hide the amused grin. “Why don’t you remove your boots and get comfortable, Reaper?” he inquired with far too much knowing for Ezra’s liking.

His gaze was unflinching on the king’s face. “As appealing as that invitation may be, I prefer to be prepared rather than comfortable in unfamiliar territories.” He cupped his hands on each knee, drawing attention to the fact he was only wearing one glove. The colorful glass lanterns in the mandap also played off the flaming gold vambraces around his forearms, undoubtedly drawing the eyes of the gods.

Agni may not have been here personally, but his claim and imprint were tangible enough on Ezra’s person to remind them of his looming presence.

“That suggests you consider yourself among enemies.”

The dark-haired god who’d looked upon Ezra earlier with unveiled disbelief suddenly leaned forward, his irises a deep red. He had flawless brown skin and a headful of black hair with loose waves curling near his neckline. He was lithe and not built particularly robustly, yet he possessed enough muscles to indicate a disciplined warrior.

“I’m certainly not among trusted allies, am I?” Ezra replied promptly, instantly noticing the piercing gleam in the other god’s eye. “Which is cause enough to remain prepared.”

Ezra shared enough physical similarities with this god that he deduced this was _Kama._

Vishnu’s son.

“Come now, Kama,” Indra admonished with soft amusement. “We have invited Ezra here to _welcome_ him properly.” He plucked a small shot glass from the tray next to him. “We will not keep you long, Reaper, but I wanted to introduce you to my brothers, as well as some prominent figures in Elisium.” He set down the gold-rimmed glass in front of Ezra.

Inside the shot glass was a liquid that appeared like molten gold. It swirled mesmerizingly and emanated an alluring radiance.

Ezra found himself immensely captivated.

And then violently nauseated.

His stomach protested against the sickly sweetness. He didn’t know if he’d ever struggled so hard to keep a neutral expression while simultaneously swallowing vomit. 

“As well, we’d like to give you your first taste of Amrita.” Indra’s touch across the glass was reverent. “It is the nectar of Devas. It cleanses, purifies, and also reinvigorates your strength. It is akin to mortal worship in a glass, and only the privileged are entitled to such an elixir.” He observed Ezra’s unnaturally stiff form. “Its natural state is a thick, black sludge, but under direct heat, it transforms into what you see now.”

Ezra held his breath and looked up at Indra. “This is the drink of immortality that the Asuras fought the Devas for?”

There were a few murmurings upon his mention of ‘Asuras’.

“Indeed,” Indra said. “Though it did not grant them immortality. It merely gave them a boost of power and extended their lifespans by a few hundred years.”

_By a few hundred years?_

Ezra recalled Agni saying that Asuras were not immortal, but that they lived for thousands of years. Just how long did the mortal Asuras actually live, and if they already lived for hundreds of thousands of years, why the desperate need to achieve further immortality when their existence was already so long?

Because it was something their rivals possessed, he imagined.

Because all beings wanted something they could not obtain.

His eyes rose from the glass to observe Indra. The Amrita explained why Indra’s eyes were half-lidded and glossy. Even his elaborate crown of silver lay next to him, discarded along with his outer robe and sandals. He appeared far more relaxed than he had earlier that evening.

Indra and all the others in the mandap were _drunk,_ or, more appropriately, high off power.

Ezra couldn’t say he appreciated the scent of the king’s Essence, or any of the other Essences here. They mimicked the Amrita’s unappealing sweetness with a tang of sourness. He recalled Kai’s ravenous comments about Agni’s old and powerful Essence, and though it had unnerved Ezra at the time, he had to agree. Agni’s Essence smelt better without Amrita than Indra’s did with the power-inducing nectar.

He looked back down at the Amrita, acknowledging his difficult position.

Sharing the Amrita must have been exclusive to the elite, or merely just a privilege belonging to Indra and the queen. If Ezra understood this custom correctly, receiving a taste of Amrita would be a high honor. To turn it down would be immensely insulting.

But he could not choke it down.

“I appreciate the great privilege, but I will have to decline.” As he pushed the shot glass back toward Indra, the atmosphere grew heavy with suspicion and quiet insult. “My stomach is not quite acclimated after my rebirth. Nothing stays down for long.”

That was enough to alleviate the tenseness in the mandap.

At least everyone’s tenseness but Indra’s.

Despite his current condition of tranquility, Indra’s gaze managed to sharpen with speculation. Nonetheless, he plucked the glass from the ground and resettled it next to him on the tray. “Another time, then,” he proclaimed firmly. “I believe introductions are in order. All seven of my brothers are present, which is normally a difficult feat to accomplish. You could say they were…inclined to meet you tonight.”

“Don’t be so reserved, Indra,” a god to Ezra’s right chastised. “We all wanted to see if it was true. Lord Rudra’s _fledgling_.”

If possible, the attention around the mandap grew sharper, the silence heavy enough to deaden the music coming from the ballroom. 

Indra smiled thinly. “All speculation at this point, Bhaga. Whoever his sire is, Lord Brahma is undoubtedly responsible for the creation.” He motioned to the god who had spoken and promptly changed course. “This is our eldest brother, Bhaga. He is God of Prosperity and Distributor of Good Fortune. Oftentimes, he works with our third eldest brother, Aryaman”—here, Indra motioned to another god with pale hair—“who is the God of Customs. After Lady Parvati’s death, they are now responsible for sanctioning marriages.”

Bhaga and Aryaman appeared to be the sternest-looking Indra-specimens in the mandap.

The two stared openly at Ezra, appearing far keener in their appraisal than the others.

“You’ve had the misfortune of meeting our brother, Surya, the Sun God.” Indra threw a quick look at Surya, who had his legs stretched out obscenely in front of him—showing far more skin around his inner thighs than Ezra ever wanted to see again.

“Surely the disappointment of the family,” the god next to Surya proclaimed with mock gravity. He had boyishly good looks, floppy dark golden hair, and a grin that seemed permanently etched across his face. He did not wait for Indra to introduce him, rather he greeted Ezra himself. “I am Savitr, God of the Sun before sunrise. Not to be mistaken with Surya, the sun after sunrise to sunset.”

Surya wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “We are a pair.” 

“A reluctant pair,” Savitr said, looking pointedly at Ezra.

“Savitr is our youngest brother,” Indra informed. “He is also considered God who Impels, Rouses, and Vivifies.”

That was enough to reclaim Ezra’s attention. He looked more closely at Savitr, noticing the god appeared suddenly uncomfortable.

“And we have Mitra, God of Friendship and Energy.” Indra introduced a god who appeared nearly identical to Ashvin—the godly physician. Mitra smiled and clasped his hands in front of his chest as he greeted Ezra, who, in turn, was impelled to mimic the action. “And then there is Pushan, God of Meetings, Journeys, and Roads.”

Pushan had a friendly face and he was quick to greet Ezra in the same fashion as Mitra.

“Of course, you’ve met my older brother, Tvastr, God of Weaponry and Heavenly Builder, as well as my most trusted General.”

Tvastr was unlike his siblings, at least when it came to coloring. While his face may have been nearly identical to Indra’s, his hair was dark—nearly black. Unnervingly pale and steady eyes gazed at Ezra, the predatory observation reminding him that Tvastr had been Yama’s grandfather. Yama and Yamuna seemed to have taken after their grandfather in terms of disposition; however, Ezra had yet to meet the mother. She could take after her father more than her uncle—

 _Not just her uncle, but also her husband and consort_.

“Reaper,” Tvastr greeted neutrally.

“Despite your numerous encounters,” Indra started, reclaiming Ezra’s focus, “I do not believe you have been _formally_ introduced to Vayu.” He motioned to the god at his left.

Now, under different circumstances, Ezra truly had a chance to scrutinize the Air God.

Vayu was a pretty god, possessing painstakingly androgynous features. There were attributes Vayu shared with Varuna and Agni, undoubtedly the two most masculine brothers of the lot, yet he also possessed a soft femininity to his features. Ezra had never seen Prithvi before, but he imagined the two resembled each other more than the others.

Vayu had the same color hair as Ezra, raven black in hue which extended down to his elbows, the sheen silky, straight, and smooth. His features were delicately sculptured, small, and pert. His skin tone was identical to Ezra’s own, and his eyes were a pale grey, though Ezra was close enough to discern the dark shards of red that seemed accentuated by the ruby-colored lanterns.

Vayu raised a superior eyebrow upon Ezra’s close inspection, pretending he was not returning the scrutiny with equal consideration. “Reaper.”

“Vayu.”

“Truly a warm, receptive greeting,” Indra praised dryly, examining the two with an unusual amount of consideration before moving on. “And as you have already determined, here we have Kamadeva—or Kama, the son of Lord Vishnu and Lady Lakshmi.” He motioned to the lazily perched figure of Kama. “He is the God of Love, Lust, and Desire.”

Ezra returned Kama’s intense regard, curious about the god’s powers. Was he similar to the Apsaras performing tonight? Was he able to evoke and force upon others that senseless, uncontrollable lust and desire?

Kama did not greet him, and Ezra was happy to reciprocate.

“And last, but certainly not least, is Guru Brihaspati. He is the Guru of all Devas and Giver of Wisdom. We are very fortunate to have such a well-versed and highly accomplished god guiding us for several thousands of years.”

Guru Brihaspati was sitting in the corner of the mandap, refraining from partaking in the wine or Amrita. His legs were crossed oddly as he sat proudly upon his cushion, exuding an air of immaculate power and awareness as he stared through Ezra. His black beard extended to the middle of his stomach, as did the curtain of black hair that refused to lie flat. 

Chitragupta had stressed that gurus were to be treated with the highest form of respect.

And Ezra could see why.

Patience shrouded the guru, a quiet and unassuming peacefulness that Ezra had not seen replicated in the other ancient deities. There was something ethereal about Brihaspati, something old, wise, and something to be revered.

Pressing his palms firmly in front of his chest, Ezra bowed forward under Brihaspati’s considering gaze. “Namaste.”

A light smile played across the guru’s mouth. “Namaste, young one.” After the quiet greeting, Brihaspati repositioned his hands and rested them loosely upon his legs. He then bowed his head slightly, appearing as if he were dozing off.

As Ezra turned back to Indra, he noticed the king’s distracted look out the sheer curtains and toward the ballroom. Whatever he observed was enough to rekindle his elation. He turned and considered Ezra closely; and at the same time, Ezra felt a small stirring through his link with Agni. His spine stiffened further as the Fire God reached out tentatively—as if in reassurance—before fading back into a comfortable silence.

An unexplainable anxiousness welled within him.

Should he leave the mandap and seek Agni? Or was the reassurance Agni’s way of telling him to stay put?

Surely, if it was anything vital, Ezra expected Agni would retrieve him from the mandap.

“Quite the homecoming Agni orchestrated for your arrival,” one of the brothers—Aryaman—commented snidely. “Your presence was felt across the entire realm as it searched for the Pretas. I don’t recall Yama ever having the ability to take a piece of Naraka and use it to infiltrate Elisium like a dark stain.”

Aside from his momentary amusement that they were finished with pleasantries and diving straight into the interrogation, Ezra experienced sudden enlightenment. He’d nearly forgotten about sending Naraka after the Pretas, having been utterly exhausted at the time. He recalled Indra being furious, even Agni had seemed taken aback.

Was that the reason for tonight’s lukewarm reception?

Ezra’s demonstration of power had clearly frightened the deities and only escalated their distrust. It presented him with an advantage should he need to intimidate, and it presented him with a disadvantage should he need to reassure others of his intentions.

“It’s not just any presence that was felt across Elisium,” Kama intervened with a sharp look at Aryaman. “Are we all going to play ignorant?” Here, he looked to the rest of Indra’s brothers, reproaching them for their lethargy. “Turn the other cheek?”

Vayu stirred, offering Ezra a sour look before focusing on Kama. “We must,” he said. “Do not prematurely draw lines where they do not belong.”

Through his disbelief of Vayu actually _defending_ him—reasons be damned—Ezra thought the god’s comment was especially ironic, considering he’d been so quick to prematurely draw lines by attacking Ezra when they’d first met—back in the Eurus Empire.

Vayu’s calm countenance seemed to rile Kama, who propped up his leg and leaned heavily against it, nearly spilling the wine in the process. “The lines are plainly visible, Vayu. Are you going to claim his power, his appearance, and his questionable creation are not all tied to Rudra?”

“And if they are?” Ezra challenged.

He broke the confrontation between Vayu and Kama, ensnaring the latter’s regard.

“Regardless of my powers, my appearance, and my questionable creation, my duty is to shepherd the souls of the dead.” He looked pointedly at Indra and the others. “A task that has been unquestionably neglected for far too long. The dead are not _objects_ meant to be discarded. They are not meant to be thrown in Naraka and forgotten. The soul is a living creature that needs just as much attention as those under your own rule.”

Savitr grinned.

Next to him, Surya stared at Ezra with profoundly haunted eyes, appearing especially dim as he sprawled into the shadows of the mandap.

“But as Aryaman pointed out, and as Kamadeva is insinuating, you are no mere Reaper,” Bhaga chimed in. “Yama could not achieve such manipulations of Naraka and he was already a force to our warriors. I second Kamadeva’s insistence that we look at this with cautionary inclination.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to be prepared,” Mitra agreed quietly.

“Prepared for what, exactly?” Ezra demanded.

“It is simply a question of your true purpose,” Kama said. “Are you a creation meant to mimic your sire’s original purpose of destruction? Was Lord Brahma responsible for your creation, or had Rudra somehow managed to create a weapon in his last moments?” This spurred deliberation among the others. “If it had not been for my father, Rudra would have gladly allowed the Asuras to destroy the entire race of Devas.”

Ezra nearly laughed with disbelief. “You believe I was created with the sole intent to finish his wishes and…destroy the entire race of Devas?” He smiled thinly, though no one else in the mandap appeared amused by Kama’s suggestion.

They were grimly contemplative.

Even Indra.

It was Vayu who contradicted Kama. “Your disclination toward Rudra is blinding your sense of reason.” 

“Old, unhealed wounds should not be the source of reason,” Savitr agreed, spurring Kama’s instant regard.

In the corner, the guru stirred. “One has to question Lord Rudra’s last act and entertain the possibility that we do not know all the answers despite observing the obvious.” He saddled Kama with a stern look. “Encouraging suspicion and culturing animosity is a sure way to reap future retribution. Guidance and support with one so young are vital.”

Guru Brihaspati’s words carried enough chastisement to cloak the mandap in a brief silence. Ezra used the time to shift his posture, recognizing his ignorance of the Last War prevented him from properly defending himself.

Just what had Rudra _done_?

Kama claimed Rudra would have allowed the Asuras to abolish the entire race of Devas. Was that a simple exaggeration, or a truth? Skanda had indicated Rudra hadn’t even participated in the war except for the last battle. Was Kama referring to Rudra’s inactivity as being assistance to the Asuras?

“Then guidance it is,” Tvastr was the first to break the silence, earning him a sharp, warning look from Indra. “Naraka is not a territory that is suitable for a fledgling to explore by himself. Many of our warriors often struggle at their posts in the underworld—”

Ezra suddenly turned to meet Tvastr’s gaze, effectively silencing the god midsentence. Indra’s hands were already too deep in Naraka, Ezra refused to have it go deeper. “Their struggles are futile and unnecessary. I don’t want any of your warriors in Naraka.”

That was enough to trigger the others into instant protest and defense. The very _notion_ that the Reaper wanted full custody of his own territory!

The audacity.

They all spoke at once. Even Savitr, even Surya, even the meek and mild Mitra and Pushan.

“Yama thought the same.”

“It is a cruel realm, not meant to be trifled with by yourself. You need allies other than Agni.”

“As if you’d be allowed free reign with such reckless and uninhibited power.”

“You do realize we cannot forget what happened with Yama. He was unsupervised.”

“Look at what Agni did even _with_ supervision!”

“Far too young and far too ignorant…”

Ezra calmly endured the comments as he looked Indra squarely in the eye. “You mistook Guru Brihaspati’s term of ‘guidance’ for ‘control’.” He lifted his chin and his gaze hardened. “I do not deal well with control.” The Cold perked upon his defensiveness, though Ezra was quick to tame its instinctive response.

Indra held up his hand, instantly stilling the others, before sighing dramatically and looking down to consider the glass of Amrita. “Tvastr has always been very awkward and clumsy with politics, Ezra. It is why I normally hide him on the battlefield and away from political court.”

Ezra was unamused.

This was an issue that needed addressing.

Indra smiled indulgently upon observing Ezra’s obstinacy. “Perhaps it is a conversation better suited between just the two of us.” He rose from the ground, somehow managing to do it fluidly and serenely despite the copious amounts of wine and Amrita he’d undoubtedly consumed. “Come. Let me show you my exhibition hall. I believe you will find it quite informative.”

Under the sharp eyes of the others, Ezra stood and followed Indra from the mandap.

Just before they escaped, however, Tvastr called after them.

“Why don’t you introduce him to Shani? He is quite eager to make the Reaper’s acquaintance.” A pause sounded, surely a result of Tvastr recognizing the tenseness in Indra’s shoulders but deciding to continue nonetheless. “He is my grandson, God of Deeds and Karma. He would make an acceptable Justice’s Hand.”

Ezra nearly recoiled with the sheer audacity.

“I fully intend to reinstate Chitragupta as my Justice’s Hand.” He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Tvastr. “But next time I need suggestions on how to improve my regime, Tvastr, I will be sure to seek your counsel.”

A shockwave swept across the gods, silencing them at first before encouraging quiet and fierce conversation. He would have thought ‘Chitragupta’ was an unforgivable curse word in Elisium.

Ezra was tempted to remind them all that Chitragupta was still alive. That he was the nephew of most everyone here, who had lost as much—if not more—than anyone else during the altercation with Yama.

“Come now, Reaper, you’ve caused enough excitement for one night.” Indra beckoned Ezra from outside the mandap. “I doubt many of them have had the pleasure of experiencing such violent mood swings in quite some time. It is best to give them time to rest and recover.”

As Ezra exited the mandap, Indra offered him an ambiguous look as he busied himself with stepping into his sandals. The king’s attention then wavered, catching sight of a fair-haired goddess who appeared to be speed walking past the mandap.

“Not so fast, _duhitr_. Come here.” Indra called firmly. “Ezra, I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Jayanti.”

She turned around, appearing both bored and exasperated at having been caught. Ezra bit the inside of his cheek, wryly amused at how much she resembled Indra. From the white-blonde hair to the thick, dark eyebrows, she took after her father in everything but height. She was a small little thing, though she carried herself as if she were as tall as Indra.

She took a small step forward, running a distracted hand through her chin-length hair as her eyes raked Ezra from head to toe.

Her mouth slanted with mocking humor as she looked at Indra. “I see you have a type, father. He shares many similarities with Vayu.” With one last searching gaze in Ezra’s direction, she turned and disappeared around the mandap.

She wasn’t much for pleasantries, was she?

Ezra wasn’t entirely surprised at her standoffish behavior despite his complete disagreement with her observation. Chitragupta had told him Jayanti was often impertinent and cared little for decorum. She had little patience for small talk or getting to know new people, finding far more pleasure doing activities outside court.

Though what she had said about Vayu…

Ezra looked purposely up at Indra, catching the god’s eye.

Agni may have alluded that there was something between Indra and Vayu, but Ezra hadn’t known it was so public that even his daughter would comment on it so derisively. Did that indicate an open relationship between Shachi and Indra, or did it merely mean Shachi had caught Vayu and Indra being intimate?

“She must take after Tvastr,” he mused.

Indra appeared delighted at Ezra’s quip. “Indeed. Though I cannot hide her on the battlefield as easily as I can my brother.” His heavily ornate hand splayed across Ezra’s shoulder, applying enough pressure to move him just a step closer. The hold lingered, the grip tightened, and as Indra withdrew his hand, his thumb lightly played across the exposed skin around Ezra’s collarbone. “Shall we?”

Ezra’s mind went momentarily blank.

He enjoyed the back and forth with Indra. He enjoyed the teasing and the toying, yet he hadn’t considered Indra would be genuinely interested in anything sexual. For a brief moment, Ezra entertained the notion. There was certainly enough attraction and enough antagonistic tension to undoubtedly make it pleasurable—and it had been _so long._

However, ever since he and Agni became lovers, Ezra found his lust honed obediently in the Fire God’s direction. He did not appraise others the same way he used to, he didn’t think of sex the same way, and he didn’t even have to try to be loyal, it just came naturally.

He pushed away the sudden revelation, intending to analyze it later.

Regardless of his disinterest, Indra would have to try a bit harder than _hand grabs._ He wasn’t that easy.

He looked up and conveyed as much. “Lead the way.”

Indra considered his unimpressed countenance and answered with a pleased smirk. With an impressive flourish, he turned and escorted Ezra around the back of the room.

*** * * ***

A spasm of pain coursed through his skeletal hand, drawing Ezra’s attention away from the mural. Anxiety ate away at him as it spasmed twice more. He splayed out his fingers before curling them into a fist, repeating the action several times until the phantom pain disappeared. When it remained absent, he was not relieved, but rather unsettled. Why had it stopped?

In the past, Naraka had always used his hand as a leash.

The only times it flared with pain were instances the underworld wanted its Reaper.

With Agni’s peculiar absence, the timing of the flareup did not sit well with him. The only thing putting him at ease was the steady, albeit quiet presence thrumming through his link with the Fire God.

Frustration and anger chipped away at Ezra’s resolve. Why had Agni left without _telling_ him? Without bringing him with? The god always liked to criticize Ezra when he left unannounced.

Inhaling deeply, he refocused on the mural.

“—a yogi.”

Ezra considered the detailed image of a painfully frail man.

When Indra had proclaimed he wanted to show Ezra his exhibition hall, he hadn’t known what to expect. Consequently, he’d been pleasantly surprised when they had walked into an enormous gallery with incredibly high walls with an illusion of a skylight stretching across the entirety of the ceiling. Artificial sunlight poured through the elaborate glass panes, shedding a copious amount of light across the muraled walls.

He hadn’t gone far into the room just yet, but from what he’d seen so far, the paintings were incredible. The murals were so full of color, and so lifelike, they rivaled the realism of the mortal realm’s recent invention of photography. It seemed as if every corner, every inch of wall, was properly and tastefully covered with some sort of design or element.

There were scriptures there, too.

Sanskrit, he recognized.

“Yogi?” Ezra repeated, clasping his hands behind his back as he stood next to Indra.

“One who practices yoga. It is an artform that exercises and disciplines the mind, body, and Essence. It is a fundamental practice for deities, especially for ancients. I am certain Agni will instruct you in further detail.” Indra nodded to the frail yogi. “There are varying degrees of practice, and as you can see, some deities delve so deeply into the art, they forgo everything physical and fully immerse in their spiritual selves.”

The yogi depicted sat in a similar fashion as Guru Brihaspati had earlier in the mandap.

The posture appeared uncomfortable to Ezra, yet the yogi appeared wholly rested and at peace. Long, matted locks of hair framed the yogi’s unshaven face, and his skin all but sagged from his protruding bones. He was entirely nude with the exception of several strands of beads around his neck and a single strand dangling loosely from his hand.

Ezra couldn’t imagine having the patience to practice anything of the sort. “It sounds like a deity’s eternal sleep.”

“In a sense.” Indra smiled thinly. “There is but one large difference. When a deity sleeps, they are entirely unconscious. It is quite easy to obtain that level of oblivion and it does nothing for the Essence. If anything, it can weaken it.” He looked at Ezra from the corner of his eye. “This particular yogi was an _Atikranta-bhavaniya_ , one who achieved ultimate enlightenment. Emotions, desires, and whims were all mastered and transformed into energy and light.”

“Have you ever achieved meditation at that level?”

Indra raised a superior eyebrow. “Come now, Reaper, do I look like I could ever leave behind such lavishly greedy possessions and writhe around in the dirt, nude?”

Ezra turned back to the yogi. “It may be a good look for you. Perhaps an improvement.”

“There are easier ways to realize that fantasy of yours.”

Well, he certainly walked into that one. Ezra exhaled slowly to fight off the grin of amusement.

“Besides, being a yogi runs in your family. It is you who is more prone to roll around in the dirt.” Indra turned his pleased eyes away from Ezra and nodded to the yogi. “Lord Rudra was Guru and Lord of Yoga.”

Ezra’s eyes widened marginally as he refocused on the yogi. “ _That’s_ Rudra?”

“Oh yes.” Indra straightened his posture with enough arrogance to make him shine. “My thoughts exactly when I had encountered him in this form. Some centuries ago, I traveled with Guru Brihaspati to Mount Kailash, home to the powerful, albeit elusive and enigmatic Lord Rudra. It would be my first time—as well as Brihaspati’s—meeting The Destroyer. Unfortunately, our journey came to an abrupt standstill when we encountered a yogi blocking our path.”

_Oh god._

Ezra could only _imagine_ Indra in that situation.

Indra, of course, was not one to shy away from admitting to his superiority over others and continued. “Naturally, I ordered the yogi to move.”

“Naturally.”

“He would not heed my orders, so I threatened him with a thunderbolt.” Indra appeared unbelievably blasé about using a weapon against a seemingly frail, yet misbehaving yogi. “It would have simply been a light _zap_ , Ezra,” the king admonished, having read Ezra’s incredulity. “It would have zapped him right off the path and we would have gone on our way.”

Ezra wondered just how narrow the path had been, and if Guru Brihaspati had been so new to his position that he’d been hesitant to intervene, or if he’d grown jadedly resigned to Indra’s dramatics.

“And?” Ezra prompted.

“I fired.” Indra pressed his lips together. “The bolt was promptly reversed and my arm turned numb. The yogi’s eyes then opened, revealing the glowing red irises. At that moment, I knew we’d stumbled across Lord Rudra and that his Third Eye was activated.”

“Third Eye…” he trailed off disbelievingly.

“Not to be taken so literal,” Indra said. “It referred to his ability to see beyond the ordinary. It also referred to the state he entered when he was in his Destroyer role, or when his rage was provoked. The power was quite terrifying. If it hadn’t been for Brihaspati’s prayers, and my profuse apologies, I would have surely been dead. Instead, he directed the energy off into the distance—paradoxically creating an abomination that had been quite difficult to destroy, but that’s a story for another time.”

Ezra absorbed the information with a certain numbness.

The god realm had its fair share of unbelievable stories.

Still… “It did not strike you as odd that a lone yogi was blocking your path on _Rudra’s_ mountain?”

Indra shook his head once. “He attracted all sorts of devotees who vied to earn his favor. The foot of the mountain may as well have been overrun with them.” He lifted his chin. “One must exercise caution with Rudra’s devotees. He attracted the most fanatical, as well as the most dangerous, and he was not inclined to discriminate against those who received a boon.” 

Despite the other gods’ fearful reservations, oftentimes—most times—Indra demonstrated true respect and admiration when speaking of Rudra. Upon the mention of boons and devotees, however, there was true condemnation in Indra’s tone.

Assumedly, these devotees were Asuras.

“A boon,” Ezra repeated thoughtfully, having recalled Indra mentioning it before with Agni. “Such as additional powers? How did the Asuras receive these boons?”

Indra did not seem at all bothered with the questions, nor did he demonstrate any sort of condescension over Ezra’s ignorance.

“The initial phase is establishing a link with the god they are wanting to receive the boon from. This is typically done through worship. Once proper worship is in place, tapasya is performed. There are differing levels of tapasya, but to have received a boon from one of the Trimurti, it needed to be _rigorous._ This includes harsh penance for even the slightest of wrongdoings, spiritual awareness, virtuous activities, and the deepest form of meditation.”

“Sounds as if the boon is justifiably difficult to obtain.”

“It is,” Indra surprisingly agreed. “It took several decades, sometimes centuries, for some to please their god and receive their boon. During this time, the bond between the devotee and god would create enough power to grant the devotee his desire.”

“That power…” 

“The god cannot reap the powers of dedicated tapasya, it belongs entirely to the devotee and is to be used exclusively for their boon of choice. Immortality was out of reach for these Asuras, so they requested to be virtually indestructible with stipulations on how they could be destroyed. Such as only being killed at a certain time of day, or in a specific location. They got quite creative.” Indra appeared rather ominous. “It is not whether or not the devotee was deserving of the boon, as they certainly were, but rather what they did with that power after receiving it.”

Ezra contemplated Indra’s disinclination over the prospect of Asuras receiving powers. While he understood the king’s frustrations, he could not understand Indra’s resentment against Rudra for granting those boons.

“It made for formidable enemies,” Ezra deduced. “But isn’t that the nature of the beast with all power? The possibility for corruption and exploitation? It is not exclusive to Asuras. Mortal men have tendencies to abuse power. Even _gods_ are prone to corruption. Does that mean we should all be of equal rank, power, and skill?”

Aside from the slight downturn of Indra’s mouth, the king remained especially expressionless. “Just what are you insinuating, Reaper?”

“Without those striving for—and attaining—power, or positions of power, there can never be order. There can never be leaders who are capable of rising above all others and creating necessary change and advances. Good deeds have flourished from power. Why would Rudra refuse the Asuras the tools to make that change?”

“Is ‘change’ truly that desirable when perfection has already been obtained?”

Ezra turned his back to the mural and grinned at Indra. “Perfection by whose standards, exactly?” His tone was tight with amusement. “Certainly not to the Asuras. Certainly not to the Syphons or daemons. It is entirely unsurprising that the Asuras were always clashing against the gods. They were merely struggling to rise above the ceiling set by your ‘perfect’ society.”

Indra suddenly advanced, appearing far more animated than he had all night.

Using his looming presence, he angled to corner Ezra against the wall, but was met with a stubborn and unmoving obstacle. Rather than admit defeat, the king splayed a hand against Ezra’s chest and forcibly pushed the younger god against the wall.

Stooping low, Indra put his eyes on equal level as Ezra’s. While his features were practiced with blank refinement, his eyes gleamed fervently. “Despite the taint of Syphon through your veins, do not forget you are a _god._ One of _my_ gods.” The pads of his fingers dug possessively into Ezra’s chest. “You are reaping the luxuries and benefits made possible to you from the gods’ total conquest over the Asuras. You, Ezra, are just as entitled as the rest of us. Do not assume you are above us by preaching empty words of equality and justice.”

Indra pulled away.

Ezra watched the king with unimpressed eyes. “I was merely empathizing with the Asuras.”

“I don’t believe you know enough about the Asuras to have empathized with them. Seeing as Agni has yet to educate you, I will do so.” Indra moved down the gallery without a backward glance. “I am well aware of your fight in the mortal realm for equal rights. But this was not a question of equality across the genders or equality across the same race of species.”

Indra stopped in front of another depicted scene, and Ezra reluctantly moved across the gallery to meet him.

“The Asuras were their own society. They had their own territories, they had their own kings, and they had their own culture. They were as separate from us as we are from the mortals. The only difference was that they had occupied the same realm as the gods; as well, they had possessed enough abilities and intelligence to challenge the Devas.”

As Ezra came to a stop next to Indra, he examined the mural of two clashing groups. Upon quick study, the groups appeared relatively similar. They were all human-like, they were all bloodthirsty, and they all wielded weapons of similar style. But upon further scrutiny, the distinctions between the Devas and Asuras became evident.

The Devas possessed a subtle glow with unbelievably clear and attractive faces. The Asuras, however, were cast in dull and unflattering hues, their features ordinary, mortal-like.

Ezra’s attention immediately honed in on the two figures clashing in the middle of the group. Despite possessing statures that were proportionate to the others, they appeared larger in both presence and majesty. 

Ezra stared, fascinated with the god positioned in front of the Asuras. 

Since discovering Rudra was his sire, he hadn’t experienced particularly strong opinions about the revelation. But _seeing_ Rudra as opposed to hearing about him was an entirely different experience, one that birthed new emotions.

It was as if he were looking at a different version of himself.

Gone was the frail and disarrayed yogi, and in its place was an impeccable warrior.

He and Rudra were not mirror images of one another, as Rudra’s features were sterner and fiercer, yet the similarities were obvious. It was no wonder the older deities had questioned his lineage. Their jawline, bone structure, and their eyes were nearly identical. Rudra was even lithe, though he had the sort of muscle definition that Ezra had yet to achieve.

The Destroyer’s hair was long, a bit matted, and fanning around him as he wielded his trident. Around his neck—which was unusually blue in hue—was a coiled serpent, and around his left wrist, there were enough beads to cover the entirety of the forearm.

Ezra then looked at Rudra’s opponent, who was undoubtedly Vishnu. The similarities between the Preserver and Kama were uncanny.

Indra watched him knowingly. “Oppression played no part in the constant clashes between the Asuras and Devas.” He continued to study Ezra. “It was about obtaining and keeping the position of apex predator.”

Ezra hadn’t realized the Asuras were entirely separate from the gods. He had envisioned the two entities living in the same territory, constantly at battle over equality and burdened with unjust discrimination. It was what he was familiar with in Concordia, and it was what he’d gleaned with the daemons who’d been unfortunate enough to become _servants_ for the deities.

Nevertheless, just because the Asuras and Devas lived separately did not mean there was no unmerited treatment.

He would have to ask Agni—who seemed far more impartial over the topic of Asuras than Indra.

“They had every right to challenge us,” Indra continued easily. “We possessed everything they did not have; beauty, immortality, and refinement. But we also had every right to defend _our_ position as the supreme entity. Do you not agree?”

Ezra raised his eyebrows. “I am not unfamiliar with the concept of a hierarchy and those who wish to challenge its order.” It was not so much about agreeing with the statement as it was about the things Indra did not say. “Is that what the Last War was about? The Asuras’ final push to conquer the Devas? To upset the pecking order?”

“They aimed for total destruction of the Deva race.” Indra straightened and threw back his shoulders. “They threw the first stone.”

Of course they did.

Indra would not admit otherwise.

“The chief figure leading the Asuras was a Deva. His name was Shukra—Guru to the Asuras. Normally, he was a fair and reasonable god—even after he left for the Asuras—but all gods are prone to corruption should they not be vigilant. His descent prompted one of the most calamitous confrontations between the Devas and Asuras.”

That earned Ezra’s instant interest. “Was it common for Devas and Asuras to live together?”

“We were not _always_ at odds, but it was still uncommon for our people to coexist.” Something akin to grim reflection crossed Indra’s features. “Shukra was once a guru for the Devas, but relocated to Lanka—the Kingdom of the Asuras. There, he became their guide and instructor.” Indra’s expression pinched. “He eventually received a boon from Rudra: the _Sanjeevni Vidhya_. The ability to return the dead back to life.”

Surprise jolted through Ezra. Granted, this was before Yama, but just how did that _work_? Was it similar to Ezra’s and Yamuna’s ability to reincarnate a soul together?

“Now that you know of boons, you will understand the threat we faced when Shukra resurrected several Asuras who’d received boons from Brahma and Rudra. Considering their boons made them nearly indestructible, destroying _one_ Asura at a time was already quite a feat. But dozens? We became quickly overwhelmed.”

Ezra reassessed the mural, finding Agni’s flaming hair almost immediately in the group of Devas.

Even on a mural, Agni appeared _alive_ with vicious exhilaration. It was an expression Ezra had rarely seen from Agni, especially as of late. The Fire God also seemed to have been more muscular back then. Ezra wondered if the artist had merely romanticized the Fire God, or if Agni had lost a bit of muscle mass due to inactivity.

“As well, many powerful Astras—weapons possessing supernatural abilities—were somehow obtained by the Asuras, escalating the conflict. Guru Shukra possessed the knowledge on how to wield these Astras; and for quite some time, we were under constant siege. We pleaded for Rudra and Vishnu to join our cause, and only the latter answered our pleas.”

Ezra was beginning to see why the mention of Rudra had garnered such a reaction inside the mandap.

Not only would the deities scorn Rudra—perhaps even Brahma—for having created such indestructible enemies, but they’d hold Rudra accountable for his inactivity in helping them against said Asuras. 

“Through devising and clever maneuvering, we began regaining ground despite the odds. Our path to victory became clearer when we discovered the location of one of the deadliest weapons ever to be created. The Astra, _Brahmastra,_ which had the capability of killing any being despite their boon. The Asuras had possession of it, but Guru Shukra did not possess the knowledge on how to wield this particular weapon.

“During the final battle, we had cornered the Asuras in Lanka and reobtained the weapon. But just as we were about to implement it, Rudra intervened.”

Ezra instantly recalled Agni’s comment from yesterday.

_“I could not retrieve the trident after your father’s fall. He’d been in possession of it at the time of his death, which was…particularly explosive thanks to the use of another Astra.”_

He had a premonition that he was about to hear of Rudra’s final moments.

“His descent from the mountain was legendary.” Indra’s eyes unfocused and his expression was that of rapt approbation. “Rudra was terrifying in his fury and his surroundings reflected that ferocity. The very ground trembled and the sky turned a ruddy shade of red. Ally and foe cowered away. No one was immune from his presence.”

Ezra’s stare was sharp.

“We did not understand his sudden arrival, but he engaged Vishnu violently.”

“To prevent Vishnu from using the Astra?” Ezra pressed.

“That is what we believe.” Indra roused from his trance. “For two brothers who normally got along, their fight was remarkably lethal. Eventually, Vishnu managed to employ the _Brahmastra_ on Lanka, and Rudra attempted to defend the kingdom from the destruction. His attempts, while impressive, weren’t entirely effective against the _Brahmastra._ However, his power was immense enough to result in a backlash against Vishnu, who was not prepared for the retaliation.”

“Rudra destroyed Vishnu,” Ezra stated numbly.

Indra nodded once. “Many deities question if it had been intentional on Rudra’s part, or a result of Rudra’s last act of defending himself and the city against the Astra _._ ” He turned away from the mural and smiled faintly. “Regardless of Rudra’s intentions, the _Brahmastra_ had been enough to destroy the Asuras and collapse their kingdom.”

Ezra stiffened. “Collapsed city.”

Indra hummed in his throat.

“And all the Asuras died from the blast?” Ezra turned and examined Indra closely.

“The _Brahmastra_ was designed to single out the Asuras with boons and destroy them.”

“But it destroyed the whole city.”

“A decision that we concluded would be ideal for the weapon’s final act. The Asura race was abolished.”

As much as Ezra would have liked to pursue their decision to destroy the entire population of Asuras, he recalled the vision he’d had just that afternoon in Agni’s study. The city had been collapsing and Rudra had stopped it from falling entirely. It was undoubtedly Lanka. The Asuras had been trapped underground, but they’d been _alive._

Moreover, _Rudra_ had been alive.

Had that been his last act? Saving the city with what little strength he had remaining? His thoughts raced. The collapsed city—Lanka—had been in Naraka. As well, Rudra’s apparition had been in Naraka.

“And Naraka?” Ezra inquired quietly.

Indra seemed amused with Ezra’s deep contemplation. “As Rudra fell, his descent sent shockwaves of power across the existing purgatory, recreating it into Naraka. His death resulted in its creation.” He raised an eyebrow, suddenly just as pensive as Ezra. “It is rather unusual that you were found slumbering in the depths of Naraka. Perhaps he had not created you before the last battle. Perhaps he created you after his fall…or during—with the rest of Naraka.”

Naraka’s ominous presence felt familiar to the deities, not because of _Ezra’s_ connection to his sire, but because Naraka _was_ Rudra. Or at least a part of Rudra’s Essence lingered in the underworld.

While the revelation answered many questions, something did not sit well with Ezra.

“Which makes me second Kamadeva’s question of what Rudra had in mind when creating you.” Indra peered closely at Ezra. “What could The Destroyer want to create in his final moments?”

Indra’s speculation was sharp and distrustful.

Ezra cocked his head to the side. “I believe Kama was right,” he started dryly. “I am to destroy the entire race of Devas.”

“I do not entertain an idea that fanatical.”

Ezra’s amusement withered as he considered Indra. The king appeared far too wary for someone who did not believe Kama’s claim. “Then what else would you consider?” He watched as Indra’s face cleared a moment later. “Unless there is more to the story that you’re not telling me. What are—”

He gasped sharply as his hand seared with agony.

This time, there was no stemming the pain. He clutched at his wrist and stumbled past Indra.

“Ezra—”

“I need to leave.”

As he hurried out of the room, he distractedly caught the eyes of a beautiful, dark-haired goddess on the mural. Surrounded by two other goddesses, the woman’s honey-brown eyes gazed down at Ezra. Her familiarity was enough to spark a sick, nostalgic feeling in his stomach, though he knew he had never seen her before.

The feeling stayed with him as he hurried from the gallery.

*** * * ***

The night was brisk and the scent of sweet flowers and almonds filled the air. Ezra barely noticed the grandeur the gardens had to offer as he sprinted down the steps of the palace, his hand searing with enough pain to blunt his perceptions. Chitragupta once claimed that some places—like the palace—had wards that prevented shadow travel. His best chance was to find someplace away from Indra’s stronghold.

Agni’s presence stirred in response to Ezra’s uncontrolled alarm.

Ezra cursed the Fire God.

Why had the god _left_? Did the situation in Naraka have to do with Agni? What of Chitragupta? Kai? Skanda?

He nearly rolled down the hill in his haste to find a shadow that would grab hold of him. Surely Naraka was desperate enough to transport him to the location of its choosing. Yet every shadow that he passed through remained dormant.

“Where are you going, Reaper?” a voice demanded sharply.

Ezra glanced over his shoulder, displeased to see Vayu following him. He did not waste time with a reply and continued racing through the shadows. Behind him, Vayu pursued him. The wind picked up, and just as Ezra felt it tug at his clothing, he was abruptly swallowed by the dark. Without Chitragupta at his side, his fall into the shadows felt more like a plunge into the unknown.

But the cold was familiar, the darkness just as well.

The surreal beauty of Elisium fell away and dropped him into the stark and unforgiving environment of Naraka. As he landed in the snow, and as the shadows gradually receded, the desperate and lost voices of Naraka clung persistently to his consciousness. Disregarding them proved difficult, but essential as he ran a cursory eye across his surroundings.

He was alone.

The lack of a threat was jarring.

His coiled body gradually eased its tension as he failed to find the source of Naraka’s unsettlement. At his side, his hand no longer seared with sharp pain but had dulled to a mere ache. There had to be something here. Something the underworld had wanted him to see. Remaining stock-still, Ezra stopped breathing, hoping to hear what he could not see.

Distant owls called into the trees, and water traveling at great speeds sounded faintly in the distance.

Through the sounds of nature, Ezra picked up a weak, static-like buzz that sounded like the electricity back in the mortal realm.

Knowing he could no longer ignore the obvious, Ezra gradually looked up at the red-gold wards encompassing the Syphons and daemons. He recalled his vision, wondering if Naraka was merely impatient with Ezra’s lack of progress on the matter and had called him down here. Unlike his vision, however, there were no black, spidery lines veining their way across the perimeter.

He took a cautious step toward the wards, feeling a strange sense of familiarity and lure toward them, but stopped abruptly.

Distant moans resonated across the underground. Moving away from the cage, he traveled through knee-deep snow and toward the edge of the cliff that was observable between a pair of snow-covered evergreens.

There were no glowing grubs on this level, but the snow radiated just as brightly here as it had there. The pristine snow selfishly seized the moon’s rays and rebounded the light back, painting his surroundings with an ethereal luminosity. It was certainly enough light to see down the steep drop and across the lands below.

The cold hand of dread wrapped around his throat.

A black river entwined through sparse and naked trees, stretching as far as the eye could see.

The _Vaitarna_ River.

Most of the river moved too quickly to freeze over, but the thin ice encasing the small offshoots were shattered by arms that stretched from the depths of the river. Heads and hands periodically emerged from the water, their struggles conveyed through the desperation of their movements or through their dismayed moans reverberating throughout the realm.

Water flooded through the trees, drowning and upturning the roots. And from the overspill of the river, he could just barely discern a body in the distance as it solidified and crawled awkwardly from the water. The mortal soul gathered itself on dry ground before standing with hunched shoulders and a distorted body.

It turned, its glowing eyes somehow finding Ezra at the top of the cliff.

The creature then scampered hurriedly off into the trees, as if wanting to escape his notice.

He closed his eyes against the sick feeling in his stomach. The mortal souls were supposed to be at peace in the river, yet the neglected ones clearly had lingered too long in limbo. Just as Yama—or rather Naraka—had warned him about in the throne room.

As Ezra opened his eyes to observe the sheer size of Vaitarna, he was suddenly hit with a grim realization. Taking the throne and judging the souls now would barely make a _dent._ There were too many. Even with a Justice’s Hand—even with two—Ezra could not fathom making any sort of progress for several decades. And then there were new souls always occupying the river.

Every day. Every hour. Every minute.

A cool breeze caressed his cheeks and the sound of flapping wings struck the air above him. He gazed up at the bird, suspicious when he identified the light-colored hawk. It moved its wings agitatedly as it settled on top of an evergreen, the tree swaying underneath its weight.

Before Ezra could contemplate it further, the distant buzz of the wards suddenly quieted.

An ominous silence settled around him. 

He turned in disbelief, his throat tight with terror as he realized the wards had dropped. Shock turned to adrenaline, and his pulse raced as he sprinted forward in a blind panic. Hungry, angry, and disoriented Syphons would scatter and wreak havoc across Naraka _and_ Elisium. He had nothing to control them with. No set plans. Nothing to—

The wards blinked back with a palpable and defiant _snap._

Ezra stopped, his limbs trembling. He readied himself, eyeing the wards cagily in case they dropped again.

Shouting suddenly broke the subtle noises of the underworld, nearly startling Ezra with its volume, yet he was entirely unsurprised to see two of Indra’s warriors crawl out of the woodwork. Behind the approaching god and goddess, another deity— also dressed in ivory and gold—sprinted away, undoubtedly running to their king to inform him that the Reaper was attempting to break his Syphons out of their cage.

The two warriors brandished their subtly glowing swords as they neared Ezra.

“What are you playing at, Reaper?” the god demanded.

Ezra cast a harsh look at the deities. “Put that away. I’m not—”

Blood splattered across his face, startling him enough to blunt his reflexes.

The decapitated guards slumped to the ground and Ezra just barely erected a wall of ice in time to stop the blade from boomeranging around to sever his own head. The curved blade embedded into the ice, partly emerging through it and only stopping inches from Ezra’s forehead. A fast-moving figure dived out of his line of vision, tossing something at Ezra’s feet.

With his defenses elevated, Ezra looked down at the object lying on top of the snow.

It was a piece of purple thread.

Not just any thread, but his mourning braid.

He’d removed his mourning braids for the palace celebration, not feeling right displaying them for the inquisitive and invasive eyes of the deities. They had been safe at Agni’s home—

“Take better care of your things, _fledgling_.”

The wards around the Syphons flickered again just as the figure lunged.


	22. God Slayer

**Chapter Twenty-Two: God Slayer**

The tossed mourning braid was a declaration of war, carrying heavy implications that Ezra had no time to consider. There was no further taunting from the figure, no pussyfooting around.

The intent was clear.

Kill and kill quickly.

The long blade was a mere blur as it swung toward his exposed throat. Ezra dropped to the ground and quickly somersaulted toward the decapitated guards. Just as he grabbed hold of the abandoned sword, his opponent’s blade came down, driving through the snow just a hair's breadth away from Ezra’s torso. Rolling on to his back, he threw up his legs, catching the figure in the chest.

It awarded him enough space to leap to his feet, regaining his balance just in time to block the next attack.

As their blades clashed, Ezra gritted his teeth against the sheer strength of his opponent. Judging from the broad shoulders and the firm chest, he assumed it was a male. A red, hooded cloak enfolded around his figure, and black fabric wrapped snugly around the body beneath—veiling any identifying features as Ezra peered up at him.

A burning pain laced up Ezra’s arm, not only from his opponent’s strength, but from the glowing sword he’d taken from the dead warrior.

It was one of Tvastr’s creations and it did not appreciate his wielding.

An explosion suddenly sounded as a projectile tore through the ice wall he’d conjured earlier, effectively freeing the embedded curved blade. Twin blades—appearing like boomerangs or sickles—had a mind of their own as they spun around each other before honing in on Ezra from opposite directions. 

Just then, his opponent slid his blade down and around, breaking their impasse. Taking advantage of Ezra’s momentary lack of balance, he delivered a strong overhead strike.

Ezra raised his blade, blocking the attack with the forte of the sword. The figure lunged forward again, going for another fierce overhead strike. Ezra cautiously lowered into a defensive stance to absorb the attack, but the figure stepped sideways at the last second, driving his blade down and around to Ezra’s exposed side.

Mindful of the sickles closing in, Ezra quickly turned his wrist and swept aside the man’s attack, wincing as the reverberations of his opponent’s power tremored up his arm. As the figure charged at him, Ezra leapt backward and thrust out a hand, delivering a cold _slap_ across the figure’s face. Snow and ice clouded the man’s vision as Ezra stepped away, constructing another wall of ice just in time to deflect the sickles.

They were not fooled this time around.

Their blades shaved off a layer of ice as they turned course and shot skyward.

Ezra backpedaled quickly as the figure charged blindly, assaulting him with brutal forays. He experienced a brief moment of sheer panic as he was forced backward. The blade in his hand continued to burn, melting the skin on his palm and ruining his grip. However, holding it in his right hand—his skeletal hand—proved impossible, as the pain was so bad, it rendered his arm useless.

Ezra cursed. 

He was down one arm and outmatched. No matter how many times he dodged, sidestepped, and parried, he could not recover quickly enough to counter offensively. He felt inadequate as he sloppily avoided his opponent’s blade.

The strength and speed this man possessed was surreal.

With his attention constantly torn between the man and the twin blades, Ezra’s resolve wavered.

Just as he rebounded the sickles a third time, his opponent took advantage of his distraction and overwhelmed him. Ezra’s sword flew from his grip, tearing the skin of his palm and landing in the snow several feet away. A sharp, heavy backhand struck him across the face, causing his vision to blur in his left eye. As he fell to the ground, the man leaped with him, his sword a flashing arc of silver as it descended upon Ezra.

The point of the blade honed true, and Ezra gathered the Cold, waiting for the right—

A gust of wind suddenly blew, miraculously causing the man’s sword to waver and allowing Ezra enough time to turn away from the strike. From the corner of his eye, he witnessed Vayu appear behind the cloaked man. The Air God grabbed the man’s head and abruptly twisted, snapping the neck with practiced ease.

Ezra watched in disbelief as the cloaked figure clambered down into an awkward crouch, shaking away the fracture before lunging at Vayu. The sword Ezra had wielded earlier flew from the snow and landed into Vayu’s open palm. Without missing a beat, the god stepped fluidly into a block, countering quickly with a lunge and feint.

The man was not so easily fooled with Vayu’s fancy feint, though it did slow him down.

Sudden movement from above tore Ezra’s gaze from the dueling pair. The two blades hovered awkwardly as they struggled against a strong wind current. Taking advantage of their vulnerable state, Ezra conjured an ice dome around the weapons, reinforcing it in hopes they’d stay imprisoned this time.

It was Vayu’s stumbling that reclaimed Ezra’s surprised attention. 

The god just barely saved himself from a blade to the gut by utilizing his element and reversing his opponent’s attack. The figure’s arm promptly swung backward under Vayu’s manipulations, spurring the Air God to move forward and take advantage of the man’s vulnerability.

Ezra took a few steps backward, uneasy as the figure somehow broke through Vayu’s air barrier before furiously attacking the Air God.

While appearing far more capable than Ezra had been, Vayu was having his own difficulties keeping up with the man. Ezra glanced at the second sword lying by the decapitated warriors, but decided he’d only be a vulnerability with the sword. The short duel had already taken a toll on his body; his limbs were heavy and they trembled crazily.

It was best he assisted in another way. 

Inhaling deeply, Ezra calmed his racing pulse as he focused on the hooded figure. His body temperature plummeted as he called upon the Cold, immersing himself within its icy hold.

The light, sporadic snowfall began to pick up in earnest, the flakes hardening and gathering around the enemy like relentless and painful needles. As the hooded man took a step backward, ice grabbed his backfoot and encased him from the knee down. And just as Ezra raised an ice spike from the ground to skewer the man from the groin, he faltered, feeling a momentary flicker in his powers—an unexplainable dark void.

The sensation was unbelievably uncanny and it sent uneasy chills down his spine. 

_What the hell was that?_

The figure slammed his blade into the ice around his leg, shattering the entrapment before blocking Vayu’s attack with ease. The Air God managed to maintain his grace and impeccable elegance as he traded attacks with an opponent who was clearly on equal—if not higher—ground. A set line formed across Vayu’s brow as he lifted his free arm, manipulating the air around his opponent as the figure lunged.

The man’s sword hit an invisible barrier, halting his efforts, but only for a moment. Again, the dark blade somehow sliced its way through Vayu’s air barrier as if it were a tangible barricade, allowing him a direct path to the Air God.

Ezra shifted, anxious.

Something was not right.

As if sharing Ezra’s sentiments, Vayu suddenly threw down his sword, embedding the blade into the snow before calmly facing off against his opponent. Across the underworld, there was a faint stirring of power as the environment shifted in favor of the Air God. The wind moaned eerily at first before picking up speed and screaming uncontrollably. Trees bowed back and forth, their trunks groaning and creaking, and the ice pellets under Ezra’s control soon became obedient to Vayu’s influence.

The Air God thrust out an open palm, sending a blast of energy toward the figure. 

The man soared off his feet as he was propelled backward several yards. When he landed, his leg was abruptly twisted with a simple curl of Vayu’s fingers, the _crack_ audible even over the howling wind. The figure jerked oddly again, his chest and arms the obvious source of Vayu’s singular and intense focus.

Recognizing the attack as the ones Ezra had been subjected to on the battlefield against the Eurus Empire, he knew Vayu was pummeling this man to death with the sheer force of concentrated gusts. Or, at least _attempting_ to pummel the man to death. 

Ezra’s eyes widened as the hooded figure unfolded from his crumpled position and repositioned his leg and arms, snapping them back into place with confident finality. He then turned and cocked his head toward Vayu as if conveying his boredom.

Even Vayu appeared taken aback.

Vayu’s expression then darkened and the natural flow of wind shifted tersely, causing Ezra’s ears to pop and his lungs to constrict. The pressure was enough to forcibly tug him toward the Air God, though he reinforced his balance by rooting himself in place with ice. He bared his teeth in discomfort when the power swelled to hair-rising intensities. Clasping his hands over his ears, he attempted to muffle the persistent popping and the swelling of his head as Vayu suctioned the air from the environment and collected it between clasped hands.

Sound deafened. 

All that remained was the fierce vibrations of the ground as the snow swirled, mesmerizingly at first, before congregating into a funnel. As the funnel grew in both girth and height, the trees bent severely from their trunks before snapping off and joining the fray. 

Despite the hooded figure’s tenacity, even he was not immune from the funnel’s strength. The man was abruptly suctioned into the funnel, his red form just barely visible through the snow and other debris. The funnel spun faster as Vayu raised a hand. The Air God’s expression was cold as he held that form for several moments before closing his hand into a tight fist. 

The funnel compressed under the god’s command before abruptly exploding.

Ezra was thrown from his reinforced ice structure—stunned with the force of the power backlash. He surrendered himself to the snow bank, lightheaded and gradually recovering his breath. When he finally managed to find the strength to lift his head and fight off the nausea, he witnessed Vayu standing tall and untouchable among the upturned ground and fallen trees. Not a single hair was out of place as the Air God turned to look at him with a superiorly lifted brow. 

“Make yourself useful, Reaper.” He motioned to the deep crater in the ground where the funnel and hooded figure once stood. “Cover this.”

Ezra stood up slowly, impressed at the demonstration of abilities, but unwilling to convey as much. Rather, he raised his hand, conjuring enough ice to fill the crater. Whatever or whoever was down there would not be getting back up.

“We should have looked at his identity—”

“He’s not going anywhere.” Vayu took a step away from the mess he created and approached Ezra. “Once we have proper reinforcements, we will detain him.”

Ezra started. Vayu’s power had been unreal, surely… “He’s not dead?”

A peculiar expression crossed Vayu’s face, one that spoke of anonymities and uncertainties. It cleared a moment later as he loomed before Ezra, evidently not inclined to entertain Ezra’s line of questions.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded. “Running off here by yourself?”

“It’s touching that you care,” Ezra started, unimpressed, “but you are not my handler.”

“I couldn’t care less about you,” Vayu refuted. “But things are no longer just about _you._ The decisions you make here, the words you speak to others, and your reckless actions are all directly linked with Agni. If something were to happen to you, it would be Varuna and myself responsible for subduing our brother.” The dark-haired god then moved past Ezra and approached the wards caging the Syphons and daemons to assess their stability.

Ezra simmered with irritation as he stooped low to pick up the discarded mourning braid. He ran a thumb across the matted thread before tying it around his wrist. Vayu was right. Agni’s and Ezra’s decisions were no longer independent of each other. That meant Agni was just as much to blame tonight as Ezra was. 

So that uncontrollable anger he felt through their bond as Agni undoubtedly struggled to locate Ezra—held no bearing.

A faint _crack_ sounded behind Ezra.

He stiffened.

He gazed across the distance at Vayu’s turned back before slowly looking over his shoulder. A splinter bisected the ice dome he’d created earlier to cage the twin blades, which were now conveniently absent. His senses spasmed—a brief warning—before a vine wrapped around his legs and pulled his feet out from under him.

He landed painfully on the ground before being dragged through the trees at breakneck speed.

The thorny vines pierced through his clothes and into his skin, instantly numbing and paralyzing his limbs. Just as the vine wrapped around his neck, Ezra solidified his body, protecting himself from the tightening noose around this throat. He was utterly vulnerable, bound, and defenseless as he came to an abrupt halt. 

The red cloaked figure entered Ezra’s line of vision, entirely unscathed and wielding his dark blade. “Just like daddy.” The man lowered, straddling the ground over the prone and paralyzed Ezra. “A nuisance to kill…but as it turns out, not entirely invulnerable.”

Though paralyzed, Ezra’s pulse raced wildly as the man brought down his blade and stabbed it into his chest.

It chipped away at frozen skin but did not imbed far into the solidified flesh.

The figure cocked his head curiously before chuckling darkly. “So be it.” He turned the blade horizontal and pressed it against Ezra’s throat. A stray piece of dark hair escaped the confinements of his cloak as he looked into Ezra’s defiant eyes. “I’m certain, had you been older, you would have made a formidable opponent.”

He then started sawing into Ezra’s throat, shaving a groove into the frozen flesh.

Ezra screamed mentally, over and over.

It was an out of body experience.

He saw the figure hunched above him, yet the man’s weight did not penetrate through the numbness of Ezra’s body. And as he focused the Cold in the man’s direction, hoping to conjure _anything_ in his defense, the man’s presence was like an endless void, nullifying Ezra’s powers just as he’d done earlier with the ice spear.

It was if the man above him were a ghost.

But Ezra still heard the uncanny scratching of the blade as it seesawed across his neck. He still saw the shavings of frozen flesh spit out from the motion of the sawing. But no matter how much he wanted to move, to scream and curse, he was a prisoner in his own body. The terror was mind fucking, yet the shame was suffocatingly worse.

Through the horror, cold determination and fury tore at his resolve.

He couldn’t go this way. 

He refused.

As if to answer Ezra’s fortitude, the ground beneath him shook, and the shadows in his peripheral vision deepened and darkened. Naraka’s eerie presence butted up against his consciousness, reprimanding him for his disregard. It had been there all along, at Ezra’s disposal, yet he’d ignored it in favor of relying on more familiar weapons and abilities—both of which had proved futile against this opponent.

Ezra tugged on its presence now, selfishly and firmly grasping hold of it.

A low, purring growl rippled through the trees, halting the figure’s movements. The man looked at Ezra’s face, stilling unnaturally—as if seeing something frightening enough to spook him—before rearing backward.

He never made it off Ezra.

It was not Naraka who forced him off, but rather a flaming hand that curled around the figure’s neck. Agni was a wrathfully glowing presence as he charged forward, lifting the man high into the air before throwing him onto the ground. The Fire God disregarded the sword strapped to his back in favor of using his brute strength and bare hands.

With lightning coiled around one fist, and fire around another, Agni relentlessly assaulted the man with consecutive punches. The sick, wet fracturing sounds coming from the prone figure indicated severe skull damage, yet Agni persisted. Sheer rage lined Agni’s expression as he wrapped both hands around the figure’s throat and _squeezed._

By this point, it was entirely unsurprising when the figure all but sank into the snow and disappeared, earning an enraged roar from Agni.

Vayu’s face appeared in Ezra’s line of vision.

Appearing shocked, Vayu hurriedly dropped to his knees, reaching out a hand and holding it above Ezra’s mouth to check for breath. “You look dead,” Vayu said quietly—undoubtedly trying not to incur Agni’s notice and rekindle his ire. “Let’s get these off you.” His gaze intentionally avoided the ghastly mess of Ezra’s throat as he worked on severing the vines.

The Fire God stood a distance away with his back turned to Ezra and Vayu. At his sides, his clenched fists trembled noticeably, and his posture was coiled with unspent rage.

There were several more figures who danced in and out of Ezra’s line of vision. The ivory and gold colors indicated Indra’s army had finally arrived. But of course their timing was impeccable. They wouldn’t have arrived when the figure was dominating against Vayu, but rather when Ezra was prone and vulnerable on the ground.

He exhaled with frustration as he saw Indra appear behind Vayu.

 _Gods_ , he felt worse now than he had when his throat was being sawed in half.

“Do not,” Agni warned, evidently having sensed Ezra’s drowning shame through their bond. “You have never faced a threat like that.” He crouched down next to Ezra, pulling at the vines and immediately scorching them until they fell from his body like dust.

“It is true.” Vayu stood up and allowed Agni to take over. “Whomever it was, they had the ability to nullify a god’s power. I had the sense he was hiding something during our confrontation, but it was evident he was immune from both my powers and the Reaper’s.” He unraveled his sash and held it out to Agni.

“A God Slayer?” Indra inquired with sharp interest.

Agni slowly wrapped the offered piece of fabric around Ezra’s throat, sending the younger god a warning look. “It’s best you keep it frozen until we can have Ashvin look at it.” His expression was pinched as he carefully tied the sash.

Fortunately, Ezra’s body began regaining feeling now that the vines were gone. He accepted Agni’s help sitting up, and in one fell swoop, the Fire God lifted him up effortlessly, setting him on his feet with an arm around his torso. It took a great deal of effort, but Ezra managed to raise his arm and curl it around Agni’s back. The god’s muscles were tight under his touch, his body emitting intense heat.

“The wards…” His voice came out quiet, a mere whisper, but at least his vocal cords had not been severed.

“They seem intact and have been so since the attack,” Vayu informed. “I don’t see any inconsistencies with the white lines of the wards.” He glanced at Indra, and just behind the King of Gods was Tvastr and several other warriors. “We will reinforce the wards before we leave here.”

Ezra frowned. But the wards were red-gold.

“White—?” he cut himself off abruptly as the horrifying realization struck.

Agni pulled him away from the others.

“But—about the wards…” He dug his heels into the ground, pulling against Agni and facing Indra. The king watched him with mild intrigue. “We still need to discuss the Syphons and their wards. I would like a hand in their maintenance as well as a transitional plan on releasing the Syphons—” here, there were varying degrees of protest from the warriors “—with proper protocols in place. It needs to happen, otherwise the wards _will_ fail and we’ll have an even larger catastrophe on our hands.” 

Indra curled both hands around his staff and offered a placating smile. “The wards will not fail.”

Ezra stared at him with disbelief.

“One of these days, Indra, you will not be able to climb your way out of the hole your arrogance has dug.” Agni resecured his hold on Ezra. “And we will _relish_ that day.”

Indra blinked languidly. “Take your Reaper home, Agni. It is quite late for the fledgling and he’s had a long day.” There was tittering from the others, though they silenced with Tvastr’s stern look. “Do not fear, Reaper, we will take care of Naraka in your absence.”

The rage Ezra experienced was smothering.

He refused to focus on anything but that sentiment, for just under the rage was crushing shame. 

*** * * ***

_“Yama had realized the error of his ways by keeping Ezra hidden away. He had trusted someone to retrieve Ezra from the depths of Naraka. This person placed him near the wards where the Syphons are locked. It is how I found Ezra. How I knew of him.”_

He wondered why Yamuna didn’t just tell Ezra that the wards _were_ Yama. Or, what was left of Yama. Brahma hadn’t just killed Yama. He had used the God of Death to imprison his own creations.

It was both surreal and grossly macabre.

Ezra stared unseeingly at the ceiling with a certain level of detachment.

Ashvin, the godly physician, was healing and binding his throat together, carrying on a chatty conversation with Chitragupta. It left Ezra alone in his morbidly consuming thoughts. At his sides, his fingers remained curled and his muscles had not uncoiled from their tense readiness. He kept hearing the scraping of a blade and seeing flecks of crystalized flesh in the corners of his vision.

_“I’m certain, had you been older, you would have made a formidable opponent.”_

That was just it, wasn’t it?

There were always stipulations that prevented Ezra from being his best self—from conquering the obstacles presented before him. First it was when he learned to harness the Cold, he would be better. Then it was when he became a god, he could accomplish certain feats. Now it was when he grew older—wiser—he could keep up with other deities.

_“Do not fear, Reaper, we will take care of Naraka in your absence.”_

Ezra closed his eyes with humiliation.

He’d gone into tonight with confidence and poise. He’d successfully stated his claim on Naraka—warning others away—and boasted competence. If the night had ended there, he would have been satisfied. Rather, he’d ended the night vulnerable and dominated. The others had all seen such a defeat and threw back his posturing with hilarity.

A hand touched his forearm, causing Ezra to jerk.

Ashvin held up his hands in mock surrender, appearing playful though his eyes peered knowingly through Ezra. “Did you hear me? I said you can unthaw your neck now. You may feel some residual pain and discomfort, but I used some numbing tonics. The wound is sealed—at least the deeper groves.” His expression darkened. “It will take some time for the scarred tissue to heal. In the meantime, I’ve wrapped it.”

He nodded, touching the gauze-like cloth around his neck. “Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself, Ezra.” Ashvin stood up and packed his things in his bag. “I’m researching that hand of yours, by the way, but I’m not coming up with anything worth investigating further.”

“I don’t imagine it is something easily healed with tonics or medicines.” Here, Ezra looked pointedly at Chitragupta.

The Syphon stared before dropping his gaze.

“I’ll keep looking anyway. I’ll let you know if I find anything.” Ashvin shouldered his bag and looked up across the room. “Agni.” The physician ambled over to the hovering Fire God and started conversing quietly. The words ‘sleep’ and ‘continue weaning’ were heard, making Ezra feel even more like a child.

He caught Kai’s stare—another pair of knowing eyes that had been watching him intently during the healing. The Syphon sat on the couch across from Ezra, his legs propped up on the low table between them.

“You look like shit, Egan.”

“He _did_ look nice,” Chit rebutted.

“I heard you encountered a God Slayer _._ ” Skanda approached the trio and stopped at Ezra’s chair, looking down at the young god. He had his father’s ability of carefully peeling back Ezra’s defenses and peering beneath. “I assume he was the one who had infiltrated the home tonight. He didn’t show himself, didn’t take anything, but he clearly had intentions.”

Ezra had heard about the home invasion as soon as he and Agni had returned. While he had some choice words for Agni, he was relieved the others were unharmed and safe. Yet when Skanda claimed nothing had been taken, his thoughts centered around his mourning braid. He dreaded going back into Agni’s rooms to see if the others were missing.

If Cyra’s bracelet…

“What makes a God Slayer different from any other individual who kills a god?” Kai asked with a lingering look in Ezra’s direction. “Is genocide among gods truly that unusual that they’d be given a distinct label?”

Shaking his thoughts back to the present, Ezra slowly leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands together.

“The killing of gods is called ‘deicide’.” Skanda leaned against Ezra’s chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “And no, it’s not common, nor is it easy to slay deities. Our Essence allows for quick healing. Weakening the Essence, Astra weapons, and Syphons are the three surest ways to quickly kill a deity.”

“What of beheading? Drowning?” Ezra asked. He pondered on Skanda’s death and wondered where gutting and the consumption of internal organs fell on the list of ‘ways to kill a deity’.

“Drowning, no. Your system may shut down until you resurface, but you won’t die. Beheading…” Skanda trailed off with a faint grin. “It depends.”

“There is no possible way a god could survive beheading,” Kai groused.

“It’s unlikely,” Chitragupta agreed. “The extent of the damage is far too great. There were _fables_ of gods surviving beheadings in previous battles, but Elisium was different back then.” He paused. “Though I am fortunate you didn’t try to confirm that theory tonight, Ezra.” He looked up at Skanda. “There are various other ways a deity could die, but God Slayers, or Divine Slayers, are unique to others who commit deicide.”

“They are remarkably skilled entities who nullify a deity’s powers and render them vulnerable.” Skanda nodded to Ezra. “The Reaper wouldn’t have been able to use his ice powers against one. My father wouldn’t have been able to use his fire or lightning.”

Uneasy, Ezra looked down and played with the edges of the bandage around his palm. It was similar to his immunity against water and fire Elementals, only far more impressive. 

The God Slayer could clearly control his immunity. There were instances—such as in the beginning—when he had allowed Vayu’s attacks to manipulate him, or Ezra’s ice to affect him. But whatever Ezra had encountered at the end had been profound and eerily void.

It disturbed him greatly, simply because he had sensed an incredibly dangerous predator. There was more to the man than he had let on. Even when Agni appeared, he had all but feigned submission as the Fire God pummeled him into the ground.

Why the charade? Was it merely to give the other gods a false sense of security?

Kai appeared concerned. “Are there many God Slayers?”

“Most all were Asuras,” Chit said. “Asuras with boons. The term ‘God Slayers’ stuck for individuals with nullifying abilities simply because most of those who demonstrated such an ability endeavored to kill deities.”

Kai was about to interrupt, undoubtedly curious about Asuras _and_ boons, but Ezra beat him to it. 

“This was a god. I saw the red-gold Essence.” He rubbed his palms together with agitation as he recalled the memories. “Is it rare for a god to possess this immunity?” He caught Agni’s eyes as the Fire God moved forward to join their conversation after seeing Ashvin out. “Perhaps we can narrow down the god’s identity if it’s rare enough.”

Agni stopped next to Skanda with his attention fixated firmly on Ezra. “There is no way of knowing for certain who is and who isn’t a God Slayer. Only a few of them participated in the conflict against Yama, and deities normally do not publicize their abilities or even know of their abilities unless in direct conflict with powerful gods or goddesses. Such feuds are not common. There could be many deities with this immunity.”

“He mentioned my—he mentioned Rudra.” Ezra stood up anxiously. “He seemed familiar with him. That gives us the inclination that it’s an older deity.” 

“All those who are older than six hundred know of Rudra and are of majority in Elisium—”

“He had _intimate_ familiarity,” Ezra interrupted Agni with frustration. “He had dark hair. Freaky vines. Surely that narrows down the identity?” Skanda and Agni stared at him with identical looks of impassiveness, which only served to frustrate Ezra more.

“I can begin formulating a list of known God Slayers,” Chitragupta volunteered.

Ezra turned to the pale-haired Syphon. “Thank you. That’s all I’m asking.”

“You will not find the one you’re looking for on that list,” Agni said quietly. “You know this.”

“Yes. But it’s a start. It’s more than what you’re doing, or willing to entertain.” That earned a dangerous shift in Agni’s countenance. Ezra merely turned his shoulder on the Fire God and looked at Kai and Chit. “We’re going to Naraka. Tonight.” They appeared surprised, and they looked at Agni over Ezra’s shoulder as if waiting for validation. “Just let me get ready.”

“That is not wise.”

Ezra turned and faced Agni. “And that is not your call to make.”

He moved past them and into the corridor, feeling Agni’s anger follow at his heels. Quiet conversation began in earnest behind him, but Ezra paid it no heed. If they wouldn’t accompany him, he would go himself. _Agni_ did not control the situation, nor did he control Ezra’s movements in the underworld.

Entering the bed chambers, he moved quickly into the adjourning wardrobes. As he passed through Agni’s closet, he heard the door slam to the bedchambers and a persistent presence retracing his steps. Ezra clenched his jaw as he unlaced the vambraces across his forearms and entered the wardrobe of accessories they shared.

“I don’t need you to question my decisions in front of the others.” He returned the vambraces to their place before moving into his own closet.

“And I don’t need you to disrespect me. Ever.”

The sharp words were enough to penetrate through his anxiousness and stop Ezra short. He turned and looked at Agni over his shoulder, feeling a spasm of guilt as he recalled both his words and his tone. He hadn’t even realized. “You’re right,” he said lowly. “It was uncalled for. I apologize.” He traced over the harsh lines of Agni’s face before continuing into his closet.

Unraveling his torn and ratty sash, Ezra slowly approached the shelf he’d left his mourning braids.

He stared at the empty space, suddenly feeling just as empty.

_They were just thread. Just thread._

“I understand you are upset. Your pride has been bruised.”

“Bruised…?” Ezra trailed off distantly, his haunted gaze remaining on the empty shelf. “More like pulverized and thrown at my feet.” Hurriedly burying the vulnerable feelings that swelled, Ezra shakily removed his shirt and discarded the material on the ground. “I don’t need to lick my wounds, Agni. I need to get back on the horse. Just as you’ve always preached.”

“And you believe going to Naraka tonight will help you regain your balance?”

“My balance isn’t what I need to regain. It’s my dignity.” His hands trembled as he removed a jacket from its hanger and a clean tunic. “I need to feel useful. I need to accomplish things in order to feel better about myself.” He scoffed as he wrestled on his tunic and jacket. “And there are more than enough things in Naraka to accomplish.”

Agni had no retort for that. He remained a silent spectator as Ezra removed his boots and trousers before selecting a new pair. Toeing on his old, worn combat boots, Ezra decided to forgo the lifts this time in his persistence of leaving. Quickly. Agni saw too much and Ezra would rather it all stay buried. 

_They were just threads._

Grabbing his back holster, he moved to exit the closet. Before he could get far, however, Agni grabbed Ezra’s fur-lined hood with one fist and lifted him cleanly off the ground.

Ezra seethed as his feet dangled off the ground.

“Before you use Naraka as a way to wallow in your own brand of self-pity, you and I need to have a much-needed conversation.” He walked with Ezra in hand, carrying him through the conjoined wardrobes and toward their bedchamber. “It is long overdue.”

“I don’t want to _talk_.”

“Your desires are noted, but otherwise irrelevant.” He released Ezra. “You have lost battles before. Do not be so arrogant to assume you are untouchable now that you are a god. You need further training before you can defend yourself against this particular threat. He is not invincible.”

Ezra bristled at the bluntness. He couldn’t run now. Not when Agni thought him so petulant. “It’s not just that. It’s what happened afterward...”

Agni moved past him and approached the armchairs near the perimeter of the bedroom. “You’d be a fool to let Indra get under your skin.”

“You don’t understand. You weren’t there.”

The Fire God gazed at him intensely as he sat down. “Then tell me.”

Ezra exhaled deeply and loosened the tension around his shoulders when the silence and unwavering observation continued between them. “In the mandap.” Agni inclined his head to encourage Ezra to continue. “I postured like an idiot. I proclaimed Naraka was my own and I would not tolerate others in the underworld.”

“And?”

Ezra stiffened when Agni failed to see the significance. “Clearly, after tonight, my words were empty.”

“You are the Reaper. Naraka is your territory. There are no such things as empty words when you were stating the obvious.” Agni motioned to the armchair across from him. “You haven’t even graced Elisium with your presence for a week and you already believe you must be the master of your realm. It will take time. Indra has had his hands in the underworld since Yama. He will use events like tonight to reestablish his control.”

Agni always made it sound so matter of fact.

It was no longer an issue that seemed to be worth Ezra’s constant worry. 

“Come. Sit down. Take a breath. Talk with me before you conquer all of Naraka’s problems in a single night.”

While the tone was mostly nonchalant, Ezra could not overlook the underlying authority in Agni’s tone. He faltered at that, wondering at the last time Agni had exerted his control. While it typically encouraged Ezra to buck harder, it also served to intrigue him, especially when it elicited a stir of excitement.

He slowly advanced, acknowledging how good it felt to interact with the old Agni again. Nothing like near-death experiences to bring a couple closer together…

As he settled into the comfortable armchair, he saw the smug victory across Agni’s expression. Before Ezra could deliver a scathing remark about undeserving smugness, Agni’s expression then darkened and his eyes glinted predatorily. Leaning forward, the Fire God clasped his hands together and gazed sharply at Ezra.

“Let’s first discuss your decision to race off to Naraka without telling anyone.”

Ezra held his ground. “Right after we discuss _your_ decision to run headlong into danger.”

“There is a difference—”

“How so?” Ezra curled his hands around the armrest as he challenged Agni’s stare. He knew exactly what difference Agni was alluding to. “Say it.”

Agni did not rise to Ezra’s baiting. “Do you have any idea what it was like to stumble upon him sawing your neck in half?” The god’s eyes brightened further. “I already had to witness my son being eaten and rendered into a mere animal. I still hear it every day. It still enrages me even when he’s but several doors away.” Agni exhaled carefully, yet Ezra identified the small tremors of his white-knuckled hands. “I can’t imagine what I would do if my consort was severed into several pieces.” 

“It didn’t happen.”

“That does not _matter_ ,” Agni hissed sharply.

The fury in Agni’s tone was enough for even Ezra to hold his instinctive rebuttal and stiffen defensively in his chair. He recalled—very clearly—how Agni had punished him last time for running straight into danger. He had no delusions that Agni would not do it again.

When enough time had passed, Ezra carefully hedged to make his point. “I couldn’t think clearly through the pain in my hand.” He lifted his gloved hand. “Naraka wanted me in the underworld. You weren’t there, Agni. I didn’t even know where you’d gone off to or when you’d be back.” He lifted his chin under Agni’s relentless stare. “You were in the wrong this time. Don’t get upset at me for your own fault.”

Agni stared at him silently before reaching over and curling a hand around the underside of Ezra’s chair. 

With an abrupt tug, he pulled the chair closer until their knees touched.

“You always manage to keep me in line, don’t you, _charu?_ ” His tone was lighter, his gaze softer with a touch of fond amusement.

“I call you out on your nonsense. Just as you call me out on mine.” He pressed his legs firmly against Agni’s and observed the Fire God with gravity. “After tonight, I think we both understand the importance of refraining from recklessly entering a situation alone. That god—whomever he was…” he trailed off as his mind wandered. “Does Brahma have that ability? Of nullifying a deity’s power?”

Agni’s eyes grew half-lidded. “Just what are you insinuating?”

“Does he?”

The Fire God leaned back in his chair. “He, along with the rest of the Trimurti and Tridevi harness the ability, yes.”

“Aside from his powers destroying Yama, you don’t believe it’s peculiar that you haven’t seen him since before the Last War?” Ezra shifted to get a better position. “His daughter died, Agni. His brothers died. And he continued on _sleeping_?”

“Brahma rarely ever makes an appearance. I have told you this.” His eyes gleamed with sudden humor. “Do you believe he’s our mysterious God Slayer? If that were the case, Ezra, I don’t imagine he would go about killing you with blades. He was able to destroy Yama without so much as a touch.”

“That’s just the thing.” Ezra leaned forward suddenly, crowding Agni. “Yama isn’t dead. He volunteered most of his Essence to Yamuna to give to me. What’s left behind of his soul—his Essence—is imprisoning the Syphons and daemons. He’s the damn wards. I don’t know how it’s possible, I just know that he possesses enough of a consciousness to communicate with Yamuna. It’s how she knew everything.”

Agni quietly absorbed the information, his expression blank.

“Brahma either planned such a transformation, or he lacked the power to truly kill Yama.” Ezra looked up at Agni. “You said he split himself into three to create Rudra and Vishnu. Well? What happened to that power? Did he reabsorb it after their deaths? Did it just disappear with their absence? Why weren’t they recreated? Why weren’t Lakshmi and Parvati recreated?”

“I have wondered that myself. It is possible you are on the right track.”

“Brahma’s powers were depleted?”

“He lacks the power to recreate The Destroyer and The Preserver. I believe he suffered a great loss and has been weakened without his two brothers. I do not, however, believe he is the God Slayer. Instead of trying to determine the identity of this god, perhaps it is prudent we determine a motive.” Agni examined Ezra closely. “Brahma has no motive to destroy you.”

“To determine the God Slayer’s motive for trying to kill me, we must determine _Rudra’s_ motive for creating me,” Ezra countered. “And how are we supposed to do that when both Parvati and Rudra are no longer with us?”

“Yama.”

Ezra nodded as he came to the same conclusion. “If reaching Yama doesn’t work…” he trailed off and fiddled with his purple mourning braid. “I think I may be able to get in contact with Rudra.”

The silence coming from Agni was heavy.

He looked up, ensnaring the bemused eyes. “I saw Rudra’s apparition in the lower levels of Naraka. This was before I knew about my connection with him. And Naraka always takes on the form of a black wolf with me, but Chitragupta proclaimed Yama never reported seeing such a personification himself.”

“Rudra’s presence bleeds throughout Naraka,” Agni deduced.

“Rudra _is_ Naraka.” He straightened defensively upon Agni’s skeptical look. “It makes sense. Indra told me about the Last War.” Here, Agni’s expression pinched with ire. “I also had a vision of Lanka—the Kingdom of Asuras—being destroyed in the Last War. Rudra was alive after he fell, Agni. He saved the Asura race from falling too.”

“How does that vision prove that Naraka _is_ Rudra?” Agni questioned. “All it proves is that Rudra was alive after he created Naraka, therefore he did not ‘become one’ with the realm.”

“He was barely alive. He appeared weak—”

“And yet…still alive.”

Ezra clenched his jaw. “Why are you refuting this?”

Agni smirked, appearing humored at Ezra’s frustration.

“Simply because Rudra, whether subconsciously or intentionally, manipulated a _preexisting_ underworld. There could very well be traces of him in Naraka’s creation, yes. Imprints. Perhaps he’s even haunting Naraka. But Naraka is truly its own beast.” Agni appeared hesitant before he carefully hedged. “Which brings us to what happened to Rudra after the fall.”

“You don’t seem surprised that he survived the fall,” Ezra was quick to observe.

“Perhaps I had my own vision.” Here, Agni looked pointedly at Ezra’s arm, the left arm that carried the consort tattoo.

Ezra did not grasp the significance of that look.

“You had a lot of visions when you woke up after Skanda’s death,” Ezra said, recalling the spear’s memories. He and Agni hadn’t been able to talk about it since their visit with Yamuna. “The idea was implanted in you to approach Yamuna and try to create the Reaper. Yamuna was right. Naraka—or if my suspicions are correct, _Rudra—_ was manipulating everyone.”

“I am well aware of that.” Agni stood up, forcing Ezra to lean back to make room for the god as he moved away from the armchairs. “Whomever put me to sleep after Skanda’s death had wanted me to gain possession of you and protect you.”

It was clearly a touchy subject with Agni.

Being manipulated when he’d believed he was the one manipulating others.

Ezra considered Agni’s turned back. While he would have called the Fire God out on being so sensitive, he knew doing so would bring up the topic of counterparts. And while that was a conversation he intended to have with Agni, they were not finished discussing the God Slayer. Moreover, he wanted to focus exclusively on the topic of their relationship without any other distractions.

He slowly stood from the armchair and gazed around the dimly-lit bedroom.

The lanterns glowed warmly from their positions around the room, their intentions to soothe and calm. Since sitting with Agni, a bit of Ezra’s tension from earlier had eased. He looked toward the bed, knowing how comfortable it was and hating that his body yearned to rest. 

He quickly averted his eyes from the bed when Agni caught him looking.

“You think Rudra was killed outside the Last War, don’t you?” Ezra mulled over the possibility. If Rudra was shown surviving the _Brahmastra_ , and having enough power to save the kingdom of Asuras after Naraka’s creation, it would only make sense someone else got to him. “You believe the individual responsible for wanting me killed was the same one who killed Rudra when he was at his weakest.” 

“I do.” Agni slowly advanced.

“And the same individual who wants me dead is the same individual responsible for Skanda’s death.” He looked back at Agni. “It is very possible it was the God Slayer from today. It all connects. We have most of our answers, just not the ‘who’ or the ‘why’.”

“We will find all our answers, and we will find every entity responsible for touching you, Rudra, and Skanda.” Though his tone was quiet, his eyes conveyed the deepest sort of promise. “You are tired.”

Ezra’s spine stiffened at the words. He heard Indra’s warriors chortle in the back of his mind.

“I’m…” he trailed off, looking away from Agni and toward the open doors leading out into the desert. “I am,” he agreed softly. “I am exhausted and I haven’t even started.” He scoffed and grinned up at Agni, who found nothing humorous in the situation. “And things are only going to get worse before they get better. I’m not even prepared.”

Agni stopped inches from him and reached for his hand. “You _will_ be prepared. I will make it so.”

His fingers stroked the back of Ezra’s palm but immediately pulled back in shock. Agni stared at him, his eyes wide before narrowing. He reached for Ezra again, this time pressing his hand against Ezra’s cold, solid cheek.

A low hiss sounded from the Fire God. “There is no reason to keep yourself immersed with the Cold. You are safe here.”

Ezra shook his head in denial. He nearly panicked at the notion of completely lowering his defenses. He could hear the blade. “He was here and he wanted me to know it.” He wrapped his fingers around his wrist just above his mourning braid. “I don’t understand his motives for taking them, but it has to be some sort of mind game. The bracelets and the wards around the Syphons…some sort of threat.”

_“Take better care of your things, fledgling.”_

_They were just threads._

Agni stared at him, his eyes dropping down to the braid in question. “He took them,” the Fire God stated wearily.

Ezra didn’t recall a time Agni had ever appeared so lost.

A multitude of emotions flitted across the older god’s expression; from sheer rage to helplessness. The god then leaned forward and placed both hands on Ezra’s shoulders, shaking him once before pulling him into an embrace. Warm arms wrapped tightly around him and an equally warm—almost burning—mouth pressed firmly against Ezra’s cold ear.

“This is _our_ house,” he scolded sharply. “If that does not persuade you, then know you are safe with me.” He pressed a hand against the top of Ezra’s head. “You need sleep.”

Ezra stared unseeingly out into the desert, his mind playing tricks by creating illusions of red cloaks shifting in the dark. “Make me sleep.” He pulled away, putting distance between them. “Spar with me.”

“You are in no condition—”

“Agni.” Ezra turned and gathered the back holster that he’d deposited near the armchair. “You will either tire me out with a good fucking or relentless sparring. Considering neither of us are in the mood to broach the complexities of the former topic, you will have to entertain me with the latter.” He began to fasten his back holster. “Besides, you said you would prepare me.”

Agni’s gaze took on a new light as he slowly examined the length of Ezra. There was undoubtedly an innuendo at the tip of the god’s tongue, but he suppressed it given the circumstances. The Fire God inhaled deeply, cast a thoughtful look toward the bed, before moving across the room. “We will eventually broach the complexities of that former topic, but you win tonight. Sparring it is.”

Ezra followed at Agni’s heels. “Then Naraka tomorrow.”

“Only if your performance tonight appeases me.”

He offered a brief grin. “You’re hardly ever appeased.”

“Silly child,” Agni started, his tone fond, “I am only ever appeased when it comes to you.” 

They moved together instinctively, falling in step with one another as they ventured into the main part of the house. Standing beside Agni gave Ezra the reinforced strength he needed. He could surmount anything. 

And he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Quick Note:** There is a ^chance^ that I pause updates and post the remaining Part IV all at once when I'm done writing it (as I did for Part III). I'm leaning toward this chapter being our pause point (it's a good pause point and almost exactly halfway), but it may be another chapter. I'll keep you updated. :)


	23. Character Index

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per the request of some readers, I have created a master list of the gods and goddesses that we have been introduced to, as well as some key terms and explanations. I did not add any mortals to this list. If you want to glance back and jog your memory, Part III Chapter 23 has a list of all the characters up to that point of the story.

**MAIN DEITIES TO REMEMBER:**

  * **RAYA** : God name for Ezra. Only Naraka _(and Kali—sneak peek on Tumblr)_ seem to know it.
  * **INDRA** : King of Gods.
  * **SHACHI** : Queen of Goddesses. Goddess of Jealousy, Rage, and Beauty.
  * **THE TRIMURTI** : 
    * **BRAHMA** : The Creator—Father of The Four. Consort of Saraswati.
    * **RUDRA** : The Destroyer – Father of Ezra. Parvati would have been future consort.
    * **VISHNU** : The Preserver – Father of Kamadeva and Valli. Consort of Lakshmi.
  * **THE TRIDEVI:**
    * **SARASWATI** : Goddess of Knowledge, Art, and Peace. “Mother” of The Four. Consort of Brahma.
    * **PARVATI** : Goddess of Fertility, Marriage, Love, and Divine Power. Would have been future consort of Rudra
    * **LAKSHMI:** Goddess of Prosperity, Wealth, and Joy. Consort of Vishnu. Mother of Valli and Kamadeva.
  * **SURYA** : God of Sun (after sunrise to sunset). Brother of Indra and father of a lot of children. Including the Ashvin twins (godly physicians) and Yamuna/Yama.
  * **ASHVIN (TWINS)** : Godly physicians (we have only met one). Sons of Surya.
  * **TVASTR** : Heavenly Builder, God of Weaponry, respected general in Indra’s army. Has two daughters (we haven’t met yet)—both of whom have conceived children with Surya.
  * **VAYU** : God of Air. Eurus Empire. Agni’s brother/son of Brahma.
  * **VARUNA:** God of Water. Unda Culture. Agni’s brother/son of Brahma.
  * **PRITHVI:** Goddess of Earth (reborn). Terra Kingdom. Agni’s sister/daughter of Brahma.
  * **SVAHA:** Goddess of Ash. Agni’s consort. Mother of Kartikeya & Skanda.
  * **KARTIKEYA:** God of War (reborn). Agni and Svaha’s son. “Skanda” is the first Kartikeya—now one of Ezra’s Syphons.
  * **KAMA(DEVA):** God of Love, Lust, and Desire. Son of Vishnu and Lakshmi. Cousin of Ezra and The Four.
  * **YAMUNA** : Goddess of Life. Twin sister to Yama. Daughter of Surya.
  * **YAMA** : God of Death and Justice (questionable status—Ezra believes he’s the wards encompassing the Syphons and daemons. Gave most his Essence to Ezra). Twin brother of Yamuna. Son of Surya.
  * **BRIHASPATI:** Guru of the Devas and Giver of Wisdom. Very well-respected.



**OTHER DEITIES (I PROBABLY WON’T LIST THEM ALL, BUT RATHER ONES THAT ARE MORE IMPORTANT (SO FAR) THAN OTHERS):**

  * **SHUKRA** : God. Deceased in the Last War. Guru to the Asuras. Indra claims he was responsible for starting the Last War. Shukra had received boon from Rudra that allowed him to raise the dead back to life. He brought back several powerful Asuras for the Last War.
  * **JAYANTI** : Daughter of Indra and Shachi. Chitragupta’s oldest sister. Twins with Jayanta.
  * **JAYANTA** : Deceased. Son of Indra and Shachi. Chit’s older brother. Died fighting against Yama and the Syphons.
  * **TEYVANAI:** Not yet met. Daughter of Indra and Shachi, Chit’s youngest sister.
  * **SAVITR:** God of Sun [sun before sunrise], Impeller, Rouser, and Vivifier. Youngest brother of Indra.
  * **JALDEVI:** Goddess of Wine. In courtship with Varuna. She is the goddess that inspired Varuna’s vision of the Unda people.
  * **SHANI:** Have not yet met, but mentioned by Tvastr. God of Karma. Wants to meet Ezra. Son of Surya, grandson of Tvastr.
  * **ARANYANI:** Not yet met, but mentioned. Goddess of Forests, was Prithvi’s very good friend and inspiration behind creating the Terra Kingdom and their people.
  * **DHUMAVATI:** We met her in Part III. She may be mentioned going forward. Goddess who favors widows. Gifted the Noir Users with the knowledge of magic. Goddess of Unfulfilled Desires and Inauspicious Things. Was responsible for creating the curse that killed the mortal Elementals in Part III (including Ezra’s daughter). Last mentioned to have escaped Indra’s hold and currently dwelling in Naraka.
  * **INDRA’S OTHER BROTHERS (NOT SO IMPORTANT AT THE MOMENT):**
    * **BHAGA** : God of Prosperity and Distributor of Good Fortune. Eldest brother.
    * **ARYAMAN** : God of Customs. Third eldest brother.
    * **MITRA** : God of Friendship and Energy
    * **PUSHAN** : God of Meetings, Journeys, and Roads
  * **VALLI** : We haven’t met her yet, but we’ve heard of her. Sister to Kama, daughter to Vishnu and Lakshmi. She is the Goddess of Aspiration and Willpower. Ties to Skanda? 😉
  * **RATRI** : Goddess of Night, sister (and counterpart) to Ushas.
  * **USHAS**. Goddess of Dawn, sister (and counterpart) to Ratri.
  * **KALI** : [Slight spoiler] Those who read the sneak peek on Tumblr here know she was mentioned. This will be explained in more depth in the story, but she is a form of Parvati.



**KEY TERMS TO KNOW:**

  * **DEVAS/DEITIES** : Other names for gods and goddesses.
  * **ASURAS** : Mortal/superhuman entities. Had life expectancy of many thousands of years. Always at odds with the deities. Believed to be extinct after the Last War. Rudra saved some from the collapse.
  * **LANKA** : Kingdom of the Asuras. Located at the foot of Mount Sineru.
  * **BOONS** : Supernatural abilities granted to others as a result of intensive tapasya and worship. Most Asuras performed tapasya to the Trimurti (mainly Rudra and Brahma—as they did not discriminate). The more powerful the deity granting the boon, the more powerful the boon.
  * **TAPASYA** : Exhaustive acts of self-discipline and a master grasp of self-awareness.
  * **AMRITA** : Drink of Immortality. Worship in a glass. Power booster for deities, life-extender for Asuras (and power booster). This was an item that the Asuras and Devas fought for in previous altercations. It is now usually distributed during celebrations to the major deities.
  * **KEEPERS** **:** Attendants of Brahma—extensions of his power. We saw them in Chapter 1 of Part IV when Agni and Kai visited. They keep guard over the Essence. Usually, they provide the Essence to Yamuna who has possession of a godly soul from a union (Essence is red, godly soul is gold, hence why Ezra always seeing red-gold around deities). The Keepers also have the power of recreating deceased major gods (the replacement gods like Kartikeya)—this does not require any participation on Yamuna’s part.
  * **ESSENCE** **:** I know there is _a lot_ of confusion with Essences/souls. So, I’ll try my best :D  
  
Essences are what makes gods immortal—what gives them their powers. The soul is where the personality dwells; the memories, the feelings, etc. The soul can leave imprints on the Essence, of course, which is why Ezra (who inherited a large part of Yama’s Essence) can still feel ghostly impressions of Yama’s feelings.  
  
Once combined with a godly soul, the soul and Essence become ‘one’. **Red-gold**. You cannot separate the soul and Essence after creation unless you are a master of a soul (i.e. Goddess of Life/Death, probably Brahma, and a few others). Syphons hunger after the Essence, but they cannot just consume the Essence. They end up consuming the soul AND Essence. If a deity dies this way, they’re gone. They do not turn into Syphons. ( ** _side note_** : what does this consumption do for a Syphon? Do they inherit the powers of the god they consumed? No. They only get a boost of strength and they are sated for a time, but if they were to consume Prithvi (the Earth Goddess), they wouldn’t gain her abilities. _Of course, there is ONE exception to this in Part III where Yama/Ember was trying to consume Ezra for the master Reaper soul).  
  
_Say a deity is…beheaded. Their soul/Essence dies with them and they are reborn into a Syphon. We will dive into this process a bit more as Ezra uncovers Yama’s process on how he created Syphons.



  * **MINOR GOD/GODDESS** **:** Deity which lacks a platform. Such as the “God of __” or the “Goddess of ___”. Minor deities can be just as accomplished as major deities.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I will be posting the rest of Part IV all at once after I’ve finished writing everything. Until then, I will be posting character moodboards (if you’re interested, I have created many for the different deities, all posted on my [ LIVEJOURNAL.](https://epic-solemnity.livejournal.com/)) and excerpts/sneak peeks on my [ TUMBLR.](https://solemnitydreamer.tumblr.com/) Or readers can bounce off theories on the Discord server (we love to hear them, Nika). 😉♥
> 
> I will also add family trees to my LiveJournal. You can see Indra’s family tree [here (potential for spoilers).](https://epic-solemnity.livejournal.com/24908.html)
> 
> I’m excited for the conclusion of Part IV! If I don’t talk to you before then, I will see you all soon(ish).
> 
> Love ya.


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